


Don't Blow Up The Moon

by MrMagpie



Category: Blur
Genre: Angst, In which I trick you into thinking something is actually happening, LOTS OF SMUT AND DRUG USE, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, everyone is ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMagpie/pseuds/MrMagpie
Summary: A melancholic tale about three miserable bores.Each chapter is inspired by a song I've been listening to lately, which I linked in the notes, if you're interested.  I suggest listening for added drama.





	1. Love and War, You Have Terrible Taste in Men

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhlEydHLk8g

“So did you get that bloke’s number last night?” Alex asked Graham, his eyes not leaving the newspaper covering his face.

Graham was standing at the counter stirring milk and sugar into his tea. He put the spoon down and took a sip, turning to face his flatmate, leaning against the counter. “No, but I gave him mine. His name is _Damon._ Wasn’t he charming, Alex?”

Alex smirked and let out an inaudible chuckle that made his body shake. He looked up from his newspaper and took a sip of his tea. “You’ve got terrible taste in men, love.”

Graham just smirked and sauntered over to him. He leaned down and his lips brushed Alex’s ear as he whispered, “I’m attracted to you, aren’t I?”

Alex shivered slightly, setting down his paper and tea and looking up at Graham with an impish grin. “I’m the exception, obviously.”

“Oh, of course you are, you handsome devil.” Graham held his chin and kissed him, slowly, sensually, breaking away all too soon. He turned on his heel and headed for his bedroom. 

“More handsome than this Damon fellow?” Alex called after him, trying not to sound too desperate. 

“Comparison will be the death of you, darling,” Graham said casually without turning around. He disappeared down the hall, leaving Alex flushed at the kitchen table.

Alex sighed and looked down at his lap. “Maybe later,” he said to the slight bulge in his trousers, as he reached for his pack of cigarettes.

Graham and Alex had had an odd relationship since they first became friends. They met at university, Alex immediately becoming infatuated with Graham. They quickly became inseparable, feeding off each other, a bad influence for each of them. Graham came across as shy and delicate, but Alex soon learned he was just as cheeky and devilish as himself. Graham had made the first move, one night after an evening out filled with drugs and booze and sweaty, handsome boys. After that they fell into a comfortable, mutual understanding. Graham had said they were platonic soulmates, in some sort of “queer platonic” relationship, bound together for eternity but never crossing over into romance. Alex said it was more of an “open relationship,” romantic, but with no strings attached. It was in that moment that Alex realised Graham would never love him as much as he loved Graham, but he would settle for whatever it was they had. He could have Graham whenever he wanted, and anyone else he wanted, sometimes both at the same time, so what could he possibly have to complain about?

Alex stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray, and got up from his seat, leaving his empty tea cup for Graham to pick up, knowing he would. He always did. He felt his feet carry him to Graham’s room, finding his door opened a crack. He pushed it open enough to make a show of himself standing there in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking nonchalant, but slightly vicious. Hungry for something, but playing it cool. Graham lowered his book from his face, eyeing Alex and smirking at his display.

“Could I not have a moment of peace from you?” he asked, putting his book to the side.

Alex ignored him, merely waiting for him to say something as his cue to speak. “Care to join me for a shower?”

Graham’s smirk went from amused to sensual, as his eyelids fell heavy. “Why? Do I stink?”

“Terribly so, my love. Also I’d like to suck your cock.”

Graham would have laughed if he wasn’t so used to Alex’s antics. He crossed his arms instead. “Oh Alex, aren’t you charming?”

“Charmed my way into _your_ pants, didn’t I?”

“Fair enough,” Graham said, getting up and taking his sweet time making his way toward Alex. Alex just grinned at him and lead him to the bathroom.

———

As Alex turned the water on and pulled his shirt off, Graham was already stepping out of his trousers. 

“Are we actually going to get washed today or are you just going to edge me until the water runs cold?”

Alex’s trousers dropped to pool around his ankles as if responding to Graham’s question. “Are you complaining?” he asked, stepping out of his trousers and ambling over to Graham. He grabbed him by the hips, digging his fingers into the grooves of his hipbones, backing him into the bathroom door.

“Yes, Alex, I am complaining, you twat.” Graham’s eyes flew to the ceiling as Alex began easing his boxers down and nipping at his neck. He stopped when he came to a fresh bruise just above Graham’s collar bone.

“What’s this? This isn’t mine,” he said disapprovingly, eyeing the fresh love bite as if it was a challenge.

“That’s _Damon’s,_ ” Graham let his name spill from his lips in the most depraved and offensive way he knew how.

“Oh, I’m going to make you forget _all about_ Damon,” Alex whispered, dragging his tongue along Graham’s neck, stopping to kiss and suck and bite at a spot just below his ear, a place Alex knew he couldn’t hide. As he worked his neck, he let Graham’s boxers fall to his ankles, and eagerly moved to massage his balls with determined purpose.

“Do I smell jealousy on your breath, Alex James?” A defiant smile stretched across Graham’s face.

“Jealous? Of that monobrow _pretty boy?_ Please, Graham Coxon.” Alex grinned into Graham’s flesh, sliding his hand up to stroke the sensitive underside of his shaft. Graham inhaled sharply and exhaled a shuddered breath.

Graham chuckled, “I can feel your spite through my cock. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re quite the pretty boy as well.” Alex looked at Graham, with fire, resentment, and desperation written all over his face, and Graham just met him with that vile smirk. That smirk could bring kingdoms to their knees.

Alex kissed him forcefully, sloppily, his emotions betraying him. He just wanted Graham to stop _talking_ so much. All he wanted to hear from that mouth was moans and whimpers and his name tangled in a string of curses. It was always a power struggle, having sex with Graham. It was addictive, he had to admit, but it was never easy. He never _complied._ Graham wasn’t one to just shut up and take it, he had to make you feel like you’d earned it. And no matter how many times he’d made Graham cum, he never felt worthy. It kept him always coming back for more, always trying to make this time better than the last, which is exactly what Graham wanted.

Alex pulled away, looking at Graham with half-lidded eyes, a thoughtful expression painting his face.

“Should we make use of the shower, then?” Graham spoke as if he was already bored with having his cock groped and Alex’s tongue down his throat. Alex sighed and led him to the shower, slipping his boxers off before he stepped inside. Graham wet his hair under the stream of water, then leaned against the shower wall and looked at Alex expectantly, pursing his lips. Alex looked at him dumbly for a moment before carefully touching him, kissing down his chest, stopping to work on his nipples, then trailing down his belly. He held him by the hips as he kissed and licked up and down his shaft, finally sucking on his tip, swirling his tongue around it. Graham’s hand found his hair, and he looked down at him with an approving grin.

_“That’s it…”_ he encouraged him, Alex taking him all in without breaking eye contact. He knew how Graham loved it when he looked at him, so he fought himself to keep his eyes open, even when he gagged. 

He immediately began deepthroating him, wasting no time, just trying to _get him there._ Graham bit his lip and breathed heavily, but didn’t moan or cry out Alex’s name, much to his dismay. All of Alex’s self-worth lied in Graham’s orgasm, and it frustrated him that Graham was holding back. He slid a finger along Graham’s taint, sliding over his entrance and massaging him there, before easing the tip of his finger into him.

Graham mollified slightly at his touch, he could feel him lean forward into him. Graham’s eyes fluttered shut and he gripped Alex’s hair tighter. He inched his finger in further, searching for that spot that would make Graham scream.

_“Oh… god… Alex, yes, that’s a good boy.”_

Alex hummed in response, sending vibrations through Graham’s cock, as he finally found what he was looking for inside him. He ran his finger over his prostate and Graham finally let out a moan, echoing in the tiny space.

Alex was growing more confident now, quickening his pace, choking on Graham’s cock and fingering him forcefully. Graham moaned and whimpered and cursed, and not long after, he came into Alex’s mouth. He swallowed as much as of him as he could, he knew he liked it when he swallowed. He pulled out of Graham and stood up, looking at him as if asking for his approval. Graham smirked that evil smirk again, grabbing him by the hair and licking a drop of cum from the corner of his mouth, before kissing him forcefully.

“I love how dirty you are for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, love.”

Graham chuckled at that. “You’re the one who sucks my cock like it’s the fountain of youth. Now help me get washed, the water is getting cold.”

———

After their shower, Graham locked himself in his room once more. Alex decided on spending the day in front of the telly, chain-smoking until his lungs turned black. He flipped through the channels before settling on some live show The Jam was doing, and lit his first cigarette. He cursed himself when he realised he only had half a pack left, he’d have to go out and get more later on.

An hour had passed before Graham finally loitered out of his room, but Alex wasn’t watching the time.

“Oh Alex, don’t look so miserable,” he said dramatically, plucking the cigarette from Alex’s fingers and taking a long drag.

“I _am_ miserable. What have you come to bother me about?”

“Cheer up you old bitch, _Damon_ is coming over,” Graham said, sitting up close to Alex on the sofa, sliding his arm around his shoulders. He took another drag of his cigarette.

“How _thrilling_ for you.”

“How thrilling for _you._ ”

“And why on Earth would I be thrilled to see Damon?”

“Because he hasn’t even _met_ you yet.” Graham’s fingers found Alex’s hair and twirled it between them.

“And?”

“Oh Alex, he’s going to be absolutely _smitten_ with you. He loves beautiful young twinks.”

“Christ, Graham, don’t ever call me that again. I thought he was _your_ catch, I don’t want him _smitten_ with me. He’s not my type.”

“Oh but he is, Alex! You’ll just love him, I know you will. Give him a chance, will you, love?”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to agree to a threesome tonight, you slag.”

“No sex tonight, just some heroin and overpriced vodka between mates.”

“Godamnit Gra, you know how I hate heroin.”

“But Damon’s got the _best_ heroin, won’t you do a bit? For me?” Graham flashed him puppy dog eyes, but Alex wouldn’t look at him.

“Graham…”

“Don’t play games, Alex. You know you love smack, you just hate people who do smack.”

“Then what makes you so sure I’m going to love Damon?”

“He’s different. He’s intelligent, and articulate, and artistic!”

“How did you gather all of this from one night of snogging in the bathroom at the club?”

“Oh that was so much more than just a snog, love. And we’ve been chatting nonstop ever since. I actually had to persuade him to come over tonight. Can you believe it? He’s really quite shy.”

“You mean you finally met a bloke who didn’t beg you to let him suck your cock? Unbelievable, truly.”

“Now I didn’t say that.”

“You’re disgusting, Graham.”

“You love it.” 

Alex turned silently back to the television, Graham stubbing his cigarette out and reaching for another.

“Do you mind? I’ve only got a few of those left.”

“I don’t mind at all, love!” Graham said, lighting the cigarette and sitting back.

Alex sighed. He kind of just wanted Graham to go back in his room and leave him in peace, for once. “When is this bloke expected to be here, anyway?”

“He gets off work at six, I don’t know if he’ll head straight here or stop at his flat first.”

Alex checked the clock. He had a few hours.

“Great, then you’re coming with me to buy more cigarettes,” he said, getting up and making to find his shoes.

Graham finished his cigarette and began looking for his as well.

“What’s this bloke do for a job, anyway?” Alex asked, sliding an arm through his coat.

“He works at an art studio! Isn’t that just a dream, Alex?”

“Okay, but what does he _do_ at this art studio?”

“I haven’t got a clue.”

“He probably scrubs paint brushes.”

“It doesn’t matter, it would be so lovely to be surrounded by all that art all day!”

“Yes, lovely. I’m sure the smell of paint is absolutely intoxicating.”

“Don’t be so fucking grumpy.”

Alex just rolled his eyes and headed out the door, Graham in tow.


	2. Nausea, The Earth, and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0w3Iw7vJq0

Alex had spent the rest of the day on the sofa, as planned, watching Graham scramble around the flat tidying up, spitting curses and insults at him. Alex responding with audacious blows of cigarette smoke to the face.

As Graham stole another cigarette, there was a meek tapping at the door, Graham instantly perking up. Alex sulked in his seat, bracing himself for impact.

“ _Damon,_ you’ve made it, come in, love.” Alex rolled his eyes at the way Graham said his name, always as though he was letting it drip from his tongue. Disgusting.

As Damon stepped in, he eyed him. He was wearing a dreadfully hideous brown jacket and clutching a fancy-looking bottle of vodka.

“Damon, this is Alex, my flatmate. You may have seen him at the club, I’m not sure.”

“Yes, Alex. Hello Alex. I think I did catch your eye a time or two. Nice to meet you.”

_“Pleasure.”_ The word was a poison-tipped dart.

“Oh don’t mind him, he’s miserable and in love. Have a seat, let me take your coat. Shall I get some glasses for the vodka? Wait here a moment. You two can get acquainted. Alex, do try not to be so vicious towards our guest.” Graham glared at him before heading to the kitchen, Alex glaring right back.

Damon sat on the other side of the sofa, looking at Alex fervently as Alex ignored him.

“So,” Damon tapped his fingers against his knee in a melodic pattern, “You and Graham live together, how is that?”

“It’s absolute torture.”

Damon giggled. “Is he really that bad? He seems nice.”

“Just wait, he has yet to bare his teeth.”

“Oh. Well, what a shame. So what do you do, Alex?”

“Suffer well.”

“Alright… hey, um, do you like heroin?”

Alex eyed him sideways. “I detest it.”

“Oh but he’ll still be joining us, because he loves me so much, isn’t that right, Alex?” Graham said, skipping into the room.

Alex practically growled at him and Graham smiled wide. “Shall we head to the bedroom? It’s much more comfortable.”

Damon was instantly on his feet, grabbing the bottle of vodka and following Graham down the hall. Alex stayed firmly planted on the sofa, pouting. “Come on Alex, don’t be such a miserable bore.” Alex complied and shuffled in behind them.

Graham sat delicately on the bed, setting the glasses down on his bedside table and taking the bottle from Damon, pouring each of them a glass. “Cheers, mates!” he said, handing them each a glass. He and Damon took a sip while Alex gulped down half of it. “Come sit, loves,” he invited, patting the bed next to him. Damon sat up beside him, scooting close so their shoulders were touching. They smiled sweetly at each other. Alex sat awkwardly at the foot of the bed, wanting to be anywhere else.

“Come on Alex, don’t be shy just because we have a guest,” Graham said, extending his arm, gesturing for Alex to curl up under it. A smile pulled at his mouth, beaming at having Graham’s affections, but he wouldn’t let his feelings be known. He complied regardless, leaning his head against Graham’s shoulder. Damon looked a bit perplexed, but it quickly faded.

“Shall we do some drugs now, then?” Graham offered.

“Y-yes, of course!” Damon said enthusiastically. “Just a moment, it’s in my jacket pocket. Where did you put it?”

“Check the kitchen, it’s draped over a chair.”

“Be right back.”

As soon as Damon was out of the room, Graham turned to Alex. “Thanks for doing this, love, really.”

“It’s alright, I’ve decided I could use some heroin, with the mood I’ve been in today.”

“Yes, you have been in a mood haven’t you? Why is that?”

“You know, just miserable and in love.”

“Ah yes, the usual. Don’t hate me, alright, princess?”

“I could never hate you, you tosser.”

Graham smiled at him. Not an evil smile, for once, a sweet smile, like the one he’d given Damon. He leaned down and kissed him, gently, cupping his face in his hand. As he tried to pull away, Alex’s hand found the back of his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss instead, lingering as much as possible. 

“Um… er…” Damon was back, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Graham pulled away slowly, giving Alex one last loving look before turning to Damon. “Don’t be selfish, love. Alex always get a piece. Come over here, now, let’s get on with this so we can relax.” Graham could manipulate anyone into thinking his weird head games were normal.

Damon walked carefully towards him and settled back in the bed, setting his things down in front of him.

“There you are,” Graham said, smirking at him and grabbing him by the back of the head, pulling him into him and kissing him. Alex hoped Damon could taste him on his lips. When he pulled away Damon looked spent, almost post-coital. “Right then, me first,” Graham said, examining his arm.

Damon cleared his throat and silently began preparing the drug. Both men watched as he melted the powder on a spoon before drawing it up into the syringe. He tied Graham’s arm with an elastic band and instructed him to make a fist and release it a few times, demonstrating with his own hand.

“I _know_ how to do heroin, Damon,” Graham teased.

“Right, okay. Hold still.” Damon flicked a vein then injected the drug into Graham and released the band from his arm. Graham sunk back into the bed and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. _“Oh… that’s… lovely.”_ Watching the pleasure wash over him was bordering erotic.

Damon smiled at Graham before turning to Alex. “Your turn?”

“Alright, get on with it.”

He prepared another syringe for Alex and shot him up as well. His eyelids fell heavy as he leaned into Graham. Graham turned to him as Damon prepared a shot for himself. He scooted closer to him and Alex cuddled up to him desperately. He put his head on Graham’s chest and wrapped his arm around his waist. Graham rubbed his back and kissed his head.

Damon finished and put everything away, reaching for his vodka and drinking most of it, watching Alex and Graham cuddle.

“Don’t be so fucking awkward, Damon, come over here,” Graham commanded. Damon crawled over to him and let him put his arm around him. Graham kissed him again, licking at his bottom lip and filling his mouth. They kissed slowly, lazily, before a small moan escaped from Damon’s lips and Graham swallowed it. 

Alex watched, still clinging to Graham’s side. Damon leaned into Graham and clung to his neck. He looked like he was starved for Graham’s affections. Alex hoped he didn’t look that pathetic and desperate when he kissed Graham. Alex started to piece together what this sickening feeling in his gut was. It wasn’t jealousy, no, nor resentment. He’d shared Graham with dozens of blokes, he was completely detached from it at this point. Hell, Graham had even had a few steady relationships, including a few that refused to save a piece of him for Alex. Not that Graham didn’t save a piece of himself regardless. Alex wasn’t miserable because he hated Damon, he was miserable because he hated Graham. He hated him as much as he loved him, he hated him for how much power he had, over anyone who came in contact with him. He hated how Graham just got away with whatever he wanted, he could commit murder and the judge would just swoon at his charming grin, as he innocently pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and acted ever so coy and sweet. The worst part was possibly the fact that Graham knew what he did. He had perfected this little _game_ he played. Alex knew Damon wasn’t in on the game yet. He wondered if Damon was the type to play along or sit back and wait for Graham’s attention, on his knees begging for it like a fucking dog.

“I need a fag,” Alex said suddenly, untangling himself from Graham and making to get up. Damon’s head popped up.

“Could I join you?” he asked, all too enthusiastically. 

Alex almost smiled. “Fine, then, come on.”

They left Graham in a heap on the bed, going into the living room. Alex lit a cigarette and sat on the sofa, Damon joining him with his own cigarette. Alex was grateful _someone_ in this house actually bought their own cigarettes.

“So,” Damon took a long drag of his cigarette, “how’s the skag?” he asked, suddenly pensive and cool.

“Good, actually. I feel better now. Glad I did it.” Neither man was sure if Alex was being sarcastic or not.

“May I ask why you were feeling bad before?”

“No, you may not.”

“Alright.”

They smoked in silence for a moment, Damon inching closer to Alex and putting his arm over the back of the sofa. Alex eyed him sideways, knowing exactly what he was up to. He was good at reading people, and Damon was making it too easy.

“So are you and Graham in, like, an open relationship?”

“Not quite. Something like that, I suppose.”

“That must be fun.”

Alex chuckled. “Fun, yeah.”

“Why is that funny?”

“You’ll learn when you’re older.”

Damon made a flustered expression, studying Alex, who’s expression was completely blank. He stubbed his cigarette out, before taking Alex’s and stubbing his out too. Alex looked at him, annoyed, there were at least two more hits left. Damon leaned forward and cupped his face, kissing him smoothly, before his tongue forced its way inside his mouth. Alex let him, leaning in and kissing him back, his hand gliding to the small of his back.

“Oh, I just _knew_ you two would hit it off!” Damon pulled away slowly upon hearing Graham’s voice, but didn’t look at him. He smiled sweetly down at Alex, who couldn’t help but smile back. Damon’s smile was crooked, charming, and warm. Alex wanted to swallow that smile whole, so he did. He leaned in and kissed him again, pulling him in by the back of his head. Before Alex had a chance to dominate the kiss, Damon’s tongue was in his mouth once more, swirling around and lapping at every corner of it. He kissed much differently than Graham, like he was eager to get at whatever prize was inside Alex’s mouth. Graham’s tongue always danced coyly on his, beckoning him to come and take what he wanted. But Damon just came and got what he wanted. His enthusiasm would be endearing if it wasn’t so fucking _sexy._

Graham shifted his weight, attempting to make a show of his disapproval with the lack of attention he was receiving, but neither man noticed.

“Well come on then, you slags, I can’t finish this entire bottle of vodka by myself.”

They pulled away, still not giving Graham their full attention. Alex’s hands found the sides of Damon’s face, his thumbs grazing his brilliant cheekbones, and there was that smile again.

“I’m sure you could, if you really wanted to, Graham. You’re just upset you’re not the centre of attention,” Alex said, smirking at Damon as if it was a joke directed at him.

“Please, Alex, if anyone’s an attention whore in this house it’s you.”

“Sounds like someone’s a bit jealous. Should we indulge his insecurities, Damon?” Alex whispered, smirking at Damon.

Damon just giggled, hopping off of Alex, unsure if he was quite ready to play in their little games. He was starting to figure out how the games were played, though, and right now Alex was winning.

Damon kissed Graham sweetly on the cheek, then glided past him into the bedroom. Graham stood there dumbly, Alex smirking at him.

“What do you think his angle is?” Graham whispered.

Alex stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. He sauntered past Graham, kissing his other cheek as he passed. “I don’t think he’s got one.”

Graham bit his cheek, abstractive and a bit annoyed. He turned on his heel and headed back to the bedroom.

Alex had taken Graham’s spot in the middle of the bed, both men sipping at their vodka. Graham refilled his glass and slid in next to Alex. His hand found Alex’s thigh, in a feeble attempt at asserting his dominance once more, but nobody seemed affected.

“So, Damon, Graham tells me you work at an art studio, what is it exactly that you do there?” Alex asked, placing his hand over Graham’s and turning to Damon.

“Clean up after the artists, mostly. But I have access to the studio whenever I want, so that’s nice.”

“So you scrub paint brushes?” 

“Among other things.”

“I _knew_ it!” Alex threw his head back and laughed. Damon smiled but raised an eyebrow, Graham rolling his eyes.

“So you make art?” Graham interjected.

“A bit, but my passion lies more in music. I play keyboard.”

“Oh isn’t that lovely, Alex? We’ve got another musician on our hands!”

“Oh, you guys make music too?”

“Graham plays guitar, he’s quite impressive, actually. I play bass.”

“We should play together some time,” Damon smiled wide.

“That would be an absolute _treat,_ ” Graham said, his hand sliding along Alex’s thigh as he spoke.

Alex twitched at Graham’s hand’s close proximity to his crotch. Graham definitely noticed, because he smirked. He took a large gulp of his vodka.

“Should we do more skag, then?” He offered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Sure!” Damon excitedly reached for his things to prepare a syringe. Alex eyed Graham’s hand on his thigh, then turned to him. Graham met him with that devious grin of his and squeezed his thigh. He had said no sex tonight, and while Alex was still determined to hold him to it, his disposition wavered.

“You can go first this time,” Damon said, offering the elastic tie to Alex. He smiled and held out his arm, Damon tying him off and injecting him.

Alex sunk into the bed, throwing the remainder of his drink down his throat, some of it spilling down his chin.

“Damon, love, before you do Graham, could I please have a refill?” He said slowly, deliberately, in his most charming tone, offering his empty glass to Damon.

Damon smiled at him, that sweet smile of his. He placed his hand over the glass, but didn’t take it, instead leaning in and licking the spilled vodka from Alex’s chin. “Of course, love,” he whispered in his ear. Alex relished the attention, maybe Graham was right about this guy. He could practically feel the steam escaping from Graham’s ears.

Damon refilled his glass and turned to Graham with that same smile. Graham returned the gesture. He hid it well, but Alex knew that smile was forced. Damon turned back to his little _heroin kit_ and began working, quickly injecting Graham as well. Graham leaned into Alex, involuntarily, as Damon prepared a hit for himself.

“Oh Damon, this has got to be some of those most _delightful_ heroin I’ve ever come in contact with, wherever did you get it?”

Damon grinned, flicking a vein in his arm. “Why thank you Graham, but that’s my secret. I’ll bring you some as much as you like, though.”

“The best heroin! Whenever we want it! Delivered by the most charming bloke in Essex, isn’t that just lovely, Alex?” Graham turned to Alex, whose eyes were closed, trying to indulge in the waves of pleasure from the drug.

His eyes fluttered open, dreamily. “Lovely, Graham.”

Damon untied his arm and curled up next to Alex, his hand finding his chest and tracing sloppy circles all over it.

They lied in a silent haze for a while, Alex listening to the thoughts and small physical cues from his partners. They were antsy, both Damon and Graham. Damon was more nervous, he wanted to speak, or touch someone, just to fill the air. Graham just wanted to bring attention to himself and fill the nauseous hole in his gut. Alex held back a laugh. The atmosphere in the room was thick. He sipped his vodka and waited to see who would make the first move.

Much to his surprise, it was Damon. The hand that had been drawing circles on his chest slid up to cup his face, as he leaned in to kiss him. Alex smirked into the kiss, watching out the corner of his eye as Graham’s expression betrayed him. Damon bit Alex’s lip and adjusted so more of him was on top of him.

“Damon, if you really want to impress Alex, I think he’d like a show,” Graham interrupted.

Damon looked up, but didn’t pull away. “Hmm?”

“Come here, love.” Graham sat up and leaned over Alex, taking Damon’s face in his hands. He kissed him, forcefully, hungrily. Graham was in rare form. Instead of kissing like a prize to be taken, he kissed as if he was trying to take Damon’s prize for himself. He wasn’t usually so eager. And Damon wasn’t usually so… unenthusiastic. It was almost sad to watch. Alex was more turned on by Graham’s desperation than the fact that two beautiful young men were snogging on top of him.

Graham pulled away, still holding Damon’s face. His eyes drifted down to the growing bulge in Alex’s trousers, then followed his torso to his face. 

“Alex, I want you to touch yourself for us. Can you do that, love?”

Alex’s face quickly switched from wonder to a glare that could kill. “You said no sex.”

Graham clicked his tongue against his top teeth and looked to the ceiling. “It’s not _sex,_ it’s just a _show_ —” He opened his mouth to say more but Alex cut him off.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed, pushing Graham off him and stomping towards the door. He left, closing the door behind him more gently than anticipated.

Damon looked to Graham with worry. Graham tried on a comforting smile but it looked more amused. “Don’t worry about him, love, he’s just a miserable bastard. Doesn’t mean we can’t have our fun, right?”

Damon swallowed dryly.

“Come here and kiss me some more, you’ll feel better.”

———

Alex shut himself in his room and sat on the bed, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. Graham had gotten just what he wanted: Damon’s undivided attention. He listened as he began to hear little squeaks and moans coming from the other room. He could go in there and join them, if he wanted to. Or he could go in there and yank Damon off him, telling him to gather his drugs and get out. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted, so he rolled onto his back and let his hand wander beneath his waistband.


	3. I Grieve in Stereo, The Stereo Sounds Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just disgusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCIc0FKD3dM

Alex woke to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. He didn’t open his eyes until he felt arms wrap around his bare waist from in front of him.

His eyes opened halfway, and he squinted as they adjusted to the hazy sunlight streaming in from his broken blinds. He met Damon’s bright blue eyes looking up at him, and couldn’t help but smile at his charming little alarm clock.

“Good morning, did I wake you?” Damon’s voice was soft and careful.

“Mm, I don’t mind. This is a nice way to wake up.” He shifted and held Damon tight, trying to get as close to him as possible. “S’cold,” he said, burying his face in Damon’s hair. “Did Graham go to work?”

“Yes, he left about an hour ago. I tried to get back to sleep but I couldn’t, and I missed you.”

“Missed _me?_ Oh, you are so sweet.” He kissed Damon’s head. He smelled of sex, cigarettes, something sweet, and something clean. He sort of smelled like Graham, too. The combination was mildly intoxicating.

“I was hoping you’d have a shower with me this morning. It would warm you up.”

“…Yeah, that sounds nice.”

———

Once in the bathroom, Damon delicately put his arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him. Damon’s kisses were full of something that tasted almost like _love,_ he decided. He stepped back and watched as Damon pulled Graham’s striped jumper off, stopping and blushing when he caught him staring.

“What?” he asked, still holding the jumper.

“Your body begs to be touched,” Alex said, almost nonchalant, but with something sharp at the tip of his tongue. He turned to the shower and turned it on, allowing Damon some privacy to fully undress. Kind of pointless, as he’d soon turn around and be met with an eyeful of Damon’s naked form anyway, but polite nonetheless.

Alex turned and soaked up the view as Damon awkwardly stepped out of his boxers. His eyes wandered up Damon’s sturdy legs, stopping briefly to size up his cock; he was half-hard. His stomach was tight and flat, his chest broad and slightly hairy. His shoulders framed him well, his arms strong but not bulging. His body was fit, as if he played sports, and his skin was slightly kissed with tint. He hadn’t any plans to have sex with Damon, he just wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him. He wanted to get lost in the landscape that was Damon. He wondered if he would let him indulge.

He walked over to him slowly, holding his upper arms and smiling at him. Damon was blushing wildly, Alex couldn’t imagine why. He kissed his cheek, then move toward his shoulders and kissed his freckles, before moving to his chest and back up for a small kiss on the mouth.

“Do you play sports?” Alex asked, inching his own boxers off.

“I used to play football. Still do, sometimes.”

Alex let his boxers drop to his ankles and stepped out of them, walking over to Damon again and pushing him by the hips toward the shower. “That explains that body of yours. It’s quite pretty, you should wear better clothes.”

They washed each other slowly, Alex taking his sweet time letting his hands wander all over Damon. He kissed him, poking his tongue in every welcoming crevice of his flesh, fingers tickling his muscles, nipping him in seemingly random spots. Damon let him, somehow realising that Alex wasn’t trying for anything more than a chance to appreciate his body.

After their shower, Alex lent Damon some of his clothes. Damon sat smoking at the kitchen table, watching Alex make them tea, a cigarette dangling from his lips as well.

“So, got any plans for today?” Alex asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

Damon licked his teeth and looked like he was thinking, but he was just stalling. “Nope, not really. Nothing important. You?”

Alex knew what he was playing at, he tried to hide his amused smirk. “I was hoping to just enjoy having the flat to myself.”

“Right… well, I do hope you enjoy yourself.” Damon looked down and stared at the ash tray in front of him, trying to hide his disappointment.

Alex grinned and shifted his weight, letting his hair fall in front of his face. “We could hang out for a bit, if you wanted to. I _have_ got all day.”

Damon looked up, a spark in his eye and a crooked half-smile on his face. “Yeah, that would be lovely.”

———

They ended up going out for breakfast and found themselves walking down a winding path just outside the park. Damon had suggested they get some air, Alex cursed himself for complying. It was so cold he could see his breath, but those bright blue eyes had him stuck in a trap. He considered gnawing his leg off and freeing himself as he lit a cigarette.

He watched Damon walk beside him, staring at the sun. His eyes glistened in the light and Alex wanted to inhale the glitter that fell from them.

“Your eyes are quite pretty, Damon.” This words broke a silence neither man had realised was there.

“Yeah… thanks, they’re about the only pretty thing about me.” Damon tried to brush off the compliment but his cheeks turned red all the same.

“Now now, I wouldn’t say all that. You’ve only got one eyebrow and you dress like a chav, but I can work with that.”

Damon touched his forehead, feeling for this eyebrow Alex spoke of. He quickly turned his head and glared at him. “That was kind of a backhanded compliment, don’t you think?”

“That it was. Shoot one at me, I’ll try not to flinch.”

“I’d think you were a girl if I hadn’t seen your cock, but you’re a very pretty girl.” Damon’s expression turned into a sweet grin, the brightness of his smile rivalled the sun shining on it.

Alex leaned in and left a chaste kiss on that smile, unable to help himself. Damon’s smile grew for a moment before his gaze was distracted by a bush of wild flowers. He hurried over to it and plucked one, showing it to Alex.

“One of the last living souls,” he said, voice full of wonder.

“And you’ve just murdered it.”

Damon ignored him and tucked the flower neatly behind Alex’s ear. “For the prince.”

Alex wanted to puke over how cheesy this bloke was. He tried his best not to laugh, but the smile that stretched across his face was dangerously genuine.

“You have _got_ to be the gayest little twit in all of Essex.”

Damon’s face cracked and they were both thrust into a fit of laughter.

———

Alex still had three hours before Graham would be home. He filled his time playing bass, drinking copious amounts of tea, and making an elegant spaghetti dinner.

By the time Graham returned, Alex was lounging theatrically on the sofa, a cigarette burning at his fingertips, watching the news on the tv.

Graham wordlessly removed his shoes, jacket, and hat, studying Alex’s overtly nonchalant display. He was trying too hard.

“Alex, it’s freezing in here, why haven’t you got any trousers on?”

Alex turned to him slowly, sucking on his cigarette, as if just realising he was in the room.

“I’m wearing a jumper.”

“A jumper that doesn’t even fit you properly.” Graham squinted at him. “Is that mine?”

“I own striped jumpers too, you know.”

Graham snorted. “Alright then. What smells like food?”

“I made spaghetti.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Feeling generous.”

“Hm. Alright then.” Graham studied him for a moment, Alex staring right back at him, puffing at his cigarette. He headed for the kitchen.

———

Graham cleaned up Alex’s mess after he ate, not once complaining, much to both of their surprise.

They sat on the sofa, Graham lying with his feet on Alex’s lap, Alex chain smoking and Graham staring at the telly.

Alex tickled his foot, causing him to jump and pull away from him.

“I should go to bed, I’ve got work in the morning,” Alex announced, still making no plans to get up.

“You haven’t got to be there until ten, it’s hardly half eleven now.”

“Well there’s nothing good on telly and I’m exhausted.”

“What are you so exhausted from?” Graham questioned, settling back into his previous position.

“Dragging my miserable corpse through life.”

Graham rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, marathon shagging with Damon this morning after I left?”

“For heaven’s sake, Graham, no, we didn’t shag.”

“Oh, he just slipped out without a word, what a shame. I’m surprised, really.”

“That didn’t happen either.”

“Is that so? Let me guess, you bought him breakfast and you went for a romantic stroll in the park!” He threw his head back, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Alex blushed at his painful accuracy. He decided to play a new card. “Something like that.”

“Really?” Graham’s eyes were wide. “Oh my god, that is so romantic. Are you falling for him?”

Alex was taken aback. His move had backfired. “Christ, Graham, must you be so obtuse?”

“What is it, then? Do enlighten me, if I am being so _obtuse._ ”

“He’s charming, you said so yourself. You plucked him right from the dance floor, don’t play daft.”

Graham grinned mercilessly. “You’ve got to do better than that.”

“Piss off, you twat. It’s nothing more than that. I’m going to bed.” He shoved Graham’s feet off his lap and stormed into his bedroom. Graham watched him leave, satisfied, before reaching for one of his cigarettes on the coffee table.

———

Alex tried to sleep, he swore he’d been tossing and turning for at least two hours. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed at the ceiling. He closed his eyes once more, maybe if he let his thoughts flow through him instead of fighting them, they would run their course and leave him.

That hideous brown jacket, he’d have to burn it. Watching him, guarded, waiting for a metaphorical kick in the gut. A haze of blue, the same shade as his eyes, half-lidded and dreamy. The feeling of his hip bones pressed against his, cold toes poking his ankles, warmth wrapped around his waist and the smell of _boy_ filling his senses. He shifted and bit his lip. Golden freckles adorning muscular shoulders, the taste of the dip in his collar bone, the warmth of his laughter. Alex’s hand wandered to the bulge growing in his boxers. The sunlight tickling his features, golden hair sparkling and blue eyes glistening, giving him an ethereal glow. He twitches, and turns his attention to him. That comfortable smile stretches across his face and Alex’s fingers are on his waistband, tugging his boxers off. He teases himself for a moment, playing with his tip, before sliding his hand down his length and settling into a rhythm. Damon is on top of him now, grinding into his lap and leaving soft, delicate kisses down the front of his neck. His hands are holding Alex’s hips firmly in place, balancing easily on his knees. He moves like an anchor, dragging along the sea floor. He runs his hands up Alex’s chest, and the look in his eyes drags Alex down to the bottom of the ocean. He hears the door creak open and sighs, stopping his movements and turning toward the sound.

“Mind if I do you a favour?” Graham’s tone said this was an inconvenience for him, but his hungry gaze betrayed him.

“Can a bloke have a wank in peace in this flat?”

Graham smirked and sauntered toward the bed, eyeing the bulge beneath the blankets where Alex’s hand was still wrapped around his cock. Graham reached out delicately.

“Take your clothes off first.”

Graham stopped, looking like he was startled by the sound of Alex’s voice. He pulled his hand back and pulled his jumper off in one fluid motion, quickly moving on to his trousers.

Alex offered his hand to Graham, who took it and slid under the blankets next to him, as his hand guided him to his cock.

He played with him agonisingly slowly. Finally he leaned over and kissed Alex’s bottom lip, sucking and biting at it. He stopped and watched his lip swell before kissing him, light and slow. He kept his pace as he slid a tongue down Alex’s neck and nipped his collar bone. Alex bucked his hips up into his hand, but Graham pushed them down back into the mattress. Alex groaned in frustration. Graham giggled as his lips wandered over Alex’s chest, finding a nipple and nipping at it.

“A bit eager, are we?”

“Shut up, just get on with it.”

Graham sat up and stopped his stroking, making Alex groan again. “Well that’s no way to talk to someone who’s, literally, got your cock in their hand.”

“If you’d left me alone I could be sleeping in post-coital bliss right now.”

Graham raised an eyebrow, accepting it as a challenge. “I’ll make it worth your time.” 

He positioned himself so his head was between Alex’s legs, and licked a drop of precum from his tip. Alex’s fingers were gripping the bed sheet, his toes curling uncomfortably. Graham teased him, kissing and licking up and down his length, kissing his thighs, sucking at his tip, but never pulling him fully inside his mouth.

_“F-fuck… Graham…”_ Alex’s hand was tangled in Graham’s hair, trying to push him down onto him, but he wouldn’t budge. He was biting his lip and wiggling uncomfortably. Graham looked up at him, eyes wide and deviant, his own pleading.

“What’s the magic word?”

_“Please…”_

“Please what?”

“Please suck my cock.”

Graham huffed. “You’re so easy you’re no fun anymore.” Graham took his cock in his mouth, and Alex moaned, his eyes slamming shut.

Graham’s tongue moved expertly along Alex’s length, his head bobbing in an intense rhythm. His hands touched Alex everywhere he knew he liked, and Alex was close already. He moaned and mewed, cursed and choked into the cool darkness of the room. Graham’s wet finger found his entrance and massaged him in time with the bobbing of his head. Alex inhaled sharply.

_“Graham… look at me… please.”_

Graham’s gaze was intense on the surface, but dull beneath. Alex wondered if other people could see the emptiness always behind Graham’s eyes. He wondered if they found it as beautiful as he did. They probably brushed it off as a look of boredom, but what Alex saw was more like _yearning._ For what, he wasn’t sure, perhaps a soul to replace the one he’d clearly sold to the devil to be able to suck a cock like this. His eyes were dark and rich, round and wide like the moon. Alex imagined him crying, tears thick like hot fudge. He ran his hands through Graham’s hair, pulling at it and messing it up how he liked. Graham looked pale, cheekbones sharp and eyes hollow. He looked like he’d only ever known suffering, relishing the feeling of Alex’s cock in his mouth, as if his salvation lied in his orgasm. Alex jerked forward and came down Graham’s throat all at once, seeing a splatter of pale water colours. Graham swallowed every drop and crawled up his body, staring at him with deadly intensity.

“Did you think about Damon?”

“No.” Alex responded before he could think to lie.

Graham’s face softened into a pleased grin. “Good.” He gave Alex a peck on the lips, letting him have the faintest taste of himself, then crawled off him and headed for the door.

“Goodnight, love,” he said before closing it behind him.

Alex lied there breathless, his limbs strewn about the bed ungracefully. He watched his ragged breath escape his mouth and swirl around in front of him. It looked like smoke. He thought about smoking a cigarette. Then he thought about doing some heroin. He pulled the blankets over his face and drifted to sleep, thinking about Damon adorning his hair with frost-bitten, red flowers.


	4. Here Comes The Rush Again, Let Me Down Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmuQKVRH2Bk

A week had passed before Alex saw Damon again. He was in the shop, treating himself to a bottle of cheap champagne. The expensive stuff tasted like piss, he reasoned. _A bottle all to himself,_ he beamed as he read the label, _it would be gone before Graham even got home._

He headed for the cashier, then backtracked and grabbed a second bottle, picking up a bouquet of red flowers on his way out. He tried not to overthink the gesture.

He marched back to the flat, fighting off the cold with all the spite in his heart. He was halfway home when Damon turned the corner, catching his eye immediately. He was wearing that hideous brown jacket and a too-thick scarf that looked homemade. He smiled when he saw him.

Damon’s eyes wandered from the bottles of champagne, wrapped in brown paper bags, to the half-wilted bouquet of flowers. “Champagne and flowers? Got a date?”

“With my right hand.”

Damon chuckled. His eyes sparkled, and Alex wondered where the light shining off them was coming from. He watched his nose scrunch up as he laughed, and when his eyes landed on that smile, he didn’t feel cold anymore.

“Have you got plans?” Alex interrupted his laughter.

“Not really, just heading back to my flat.”

“Care to share some champagne with me?”

Damon buried his smile in his scarf and rolled back on his heels. “I suppose I could.”

Alex began walking again and Damon followed. “Got any skag?”

Damon patted his jean pocket.

“Good boy.”

———

They lied in Alex’s bed, passing a bottle of champagne back and forth, relishing the high of the heroin coursing through their veins. Edith Piaf played quietly on the turntable. The bouquet sat proudly in a vase on Alex’s dresser, the dull red of the flowers almost blending in with the chaotic scenery around them.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Damon said, talking at the dead space above their heads.

“It’s nice to feel you again,” Alex said, as if it was the most obvious statement he could utter.

Damon’s hand searched around his side, finding Alex’s and tangling their fingers together. The gesture was so simple and plain, Alex couldn’t help but smile. Damon was _sweet_ , like honey, the concept making him feel like his heart was sinking through his spine and into the mattress. He smelled cherries and tasted blood. He poured the last of the champagne down his throat, knowing there was another bottle waiting for him in the kitchen. He reached for a cigarette and lit it, taking a puff and offering it to Damon, who took it, still staring at the ceiling.

Alex found himself lost in muddled thoughts, his mind wandering far from wherever he was in that moment. Damon’s thumb grazed his hand, bringing him back to the present. 

Time to flip the record. 

He was up and on his feet, his disposition, suddenly, very _present._ In an instant he was back at Damon’s side, his hand sliding eloquently across his belly to hold his waist. Alex hovered above him, studied his lips, then found his neck and dove in to kiss it. Damon thought he was going to kiss him — he leaned forward and everything — _cute._ He kissed his skin slowly, gracefully, each brush of his lips achingly simple. He didn’t have to hold back from anything, he wanted to take his time with Damon, to study him, to figure out what sound he made when he did _that, there._ Damon made him want to actually stop and smell the roses, or whatever the saying was. It suddenly made sense.

He buried his face in Damon’s neck and inhaled. He smelled cherries again. He wondered if that was actually how he smelled or if his mind was playing tricks on him. He decided champagne would help. He wordlessly got to his feet and went into the kitchen, returning with an open bottle. He sat back on the bed and took a swig.

“Calm down, love, you’ll make yourself sick,” Damon reached for the bottle expecting a fight, but took it from him effortlessly.

“I’m obviously trying to drown something, do you mind?” Alex’s face was amused.

Damon studied him, and set the bottle on the bedside table. “What is it you’re trying to drown?”

Alex’s face fell contemplative. “You know what,” he touched his chest, “I think it’s already drowned. Thank you, Damon.” He looked up at him with a wild grin.

Damon raised an eyebrow. “You’re so odd.”

“I was going for charming,” Alex shook the hair from his face dramatically.

Damon cracked a smile and a genuine, high-pitched laugh escaped his mouth. “That too, love.” He grabbed Alex’s knee and squeezed, and Alex was blinded by the light shining from his features. He wanted to laugh too, but he didn’t get the chance, because Graham was there.

“So this is what’s been going on in my flat while I’ve been gone. While I kiss the feet of every _uncultured swine_ in Essex, you two slags lie around here drinking _champagne_ and doing _heroin._ ”

“It’s _hardly_ champagne, it tastes like piss!” Damon sent himself into another fit of laughter, still holding Alex’s knee. He’d squeezed it when he made the joke. Alex watched him, thoroughly pleased with himself.

“You make working at the record shop sound like you’re doing the Lord’s work,” Alex said, smirking at Graham in a way that was almost offensive.

“It really is, though.” Graham turned on his heel and left.

Damon’s laughing calmed and he smiled at Alex. “Sorry, the champagne isn’t _that_ bad.”

“No it’s bad, you’ve just realised that you quite like the taste of piss.”

Damon laughed again. “Stop making me laugh. I’m going to go deal with Graham.”

_Of course you are._

The record ended the moment he walked out the door. Alex inhaled the stale scent of the now empty room. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He reached for the champagne. 

———

Graham was digging around in the fridge when Damon came up and hugged his waist from behind.

“Hungry?”

“No, I’m actually just bored,” he said closing the fridge, “Do you think we could get some ex and go out tonight?”

Damon shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I know a girl. Should I ask Alex if he’s interested?”

“Darling, _of course_ Alex is interested. Run along then. Should we meet at, oh, I don’t know, let’s switch it up a bit… you know that little place with the avant garde decor?”

“The one with those weird orange globes you’re supposed to sit in?”

“Yes! That one. That’s where we’re going. I’ll ring you when we’re ready.”

“Alright.” Damon kissed him on the cheek and headed out the door.

Graham turned back to the fridge, opening it again and pulling out a slice of bread, putting it in the toaster.

Alex sauntered in, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. He kissed Graham on the cheek and sat at the kitchen table.

“How was work?”

Graham stared him for a moment. He looked like he was keeping a terrible secret.

“We’re going out with Damon tonight, he’s getting ex.”

Alex perked up. “Oh! What a treat!”

“I thought you’d think so. You better get a shower before we go, you’re looking rather heroin-chic today.”

Alex beamed and took a long drag of his cigarette. He put it out, and took one last, large swig of champagne. He slammed the bottle on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before getting up and heading for the bathroom. He felt suddenly ravenous and full of energy.

———

When they got to the club, the party was already in full swing. The lights and sounds mercilessly attacked their senses.

They met Damon at the bar, and they went to the bathroom to pass the drugs around. Alex didn’t even need them, he already felt like he was on top of the world. He popped his pill and burst out of the bathroom, heading for the bar to feed the beast. The other two took the opportunity to have a quick snog.

———

The dance floor was small, crowded, and buzzing with electricity. Alex had lost track of his mates, and of the number of drinks he’d had. The speakers were playing something atmospheric and the crowd swayed to the music. Alex wasn’t sure if they had the proper rhythm, but it was a sight to behold just as well. He let the crowd carry him around the dance floor in circles. He felt like he could disappear.

He was suddenly thrust into a body. He turned to see Graham’s irritated face. He could have swore he heard him growl. He decided he did, and smirked at the thought. His gaze wandered to the boy beneath him, shoved up against the wall. He had sun kissed curly hair, his eyes dull orbs of ocean blue. Graham had a type. He wondered briefly if he’d taste that boy’s skin, too.

He found himself being carried away again. He thought if he held his legs up the crowd might pick him up and carry him off. He wondered where they’d take him. He watched the coloured lights bounce off the quick flashes of faces bouncing around him. He wondered if any of them were beautiful. He thought they all looked beautiful, but he was high. Oh, and drunk, too. He looked down to his empty glass —when had that happened? He wondered for a moment where the contents of his glass could have had gone, then suddenly found himself standing still. He’d been neatly placed on the outskirts of the crowd, staring dumbly at it in disbelief that he’d just come from there. He wondered what it would be like to do heroin right now. He wondered what Damon’s eyes might look like right now. He set his empty glass on a nearby table as his feet carried him to the bathroom.

The bathroom was quiet, empty. Alex decided he might as well piss if he was here. As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were open too wide and his dark circles were more prominent than usual. He dried his hands and ran his fingers through his hair — still glorious as ever. He was picking apart his gaunt reflexion when he tasted blood.

He watched through the mirror as Damon shuffled out of a stall behind him. He smiled at his reflection.

“Have you been spying on me?”

Damon just blushed and smiled. Alex wondered if his body was emitting static electricity. He turned to face Damon and crossed his arms over his chest — one final defence before faltering.

“Come over here, where have you been all night?”

Damon closed the gap between them and kissed his chin. “Looking for you, of course.”

“My arse, come off it.”

“I’ve just been floating around, mostly. I’m sure some part of me was looking for you, though.” Damon bit his lip — an unnecessary touch — _a power move._

Alex was tickled. He didn’t let his laugh escape past his amused smirk. “Let me take you outside for a fag, my treat.”

Damon grinned, it was too genuine. His smile blew his cover every time.

———

They huddled up outside the club, smoking in a comfortable silence, despite the uncomfortable space.

“Would you like to get out of here?” Alex offered.

“How will we round up Graham?”

Images of Graham’s tongue down the throat of that pretty boy in the club flashed before Alex’s eyes.

“There you slags are! Give me a fag.”

“Did we say his name three times?” Graham didn’t look amused. At least Damon was laughing.

Damon offered him a cigarette, lighting it for him. He took a long drag and watched the smoke as he exhaled.

“You two are insufferable sometimes, you know.”

_You two. He was referring to them as an item. Alex and Damon. Damon and Alex. In the same breath._

Damon untangled himself from Alex and threw himself at Graham, kissing him like he’d been waiting to taste his lips all night.

“Don’t kick me out just yet.” He whispered, but he knew Alex could hear him.

“You, love, are staying with me tonight. I was going to kick Alex out.”

_And then it was Graham and Damon. Damon and Graham._

———

Once in the flat, Graham had the other two hostage. He was chain smoking — cigarettes he didn’t buy — going on about the _vibe_ of the club, the _aura_ around everyone, _the feeling in the air,_ waving his cigarette around like a drunk conductor. Alex supposed that’s what he was.

He looked at Damon. His eyes were rimmed with red, the poor boy was exhausted, and Graham was sucking the life out of him. He checked the time — just past one in the morning.

He listened for Graham’s tone to shift, indicating his sentence was ending. He stopped for a breath — Alex took his cue.

“I think we should get some rest.” His voice was soft, obnoxiously polite.

Graham bit his cheek, looking at Damon, who smiled stupidly at him.

“Alright, then. Damon, Alex says it’s time for bed.” He took Damon by the hand and yanked him into the bedroom. 

Alex counted the seconds before he heard the sounds of sex seeping from under the door and through the walls. He went into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.


	5. It's a Troubled Romancer, a Question With No Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is very short and, oh look, more smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ScK3FIkaGA

Alex woke up feeling like he’d been mummified in his sleep. He realised he’d forgotten to set his alarm. He checked the time — still two hours before he had to leave for work. The first sensation he felt was the stickiness of his eyes, he grimaced as he rubbed the sleep from them. Then the headache came rushing in, practically knocking the wind out of him. His body was damp with sweat. He realised he’d fallen asleep in his clothes. The flat was actually warm for once. He turned to the window to see if the sun had finally began cooking the Earth. A snow flurry danced outside. He stood up and stripped down to his boxers, then sat back down on the bed and held his head. His mouth felt like it had been carpeted, and tasted like… blood. He looked up as Damon crept into his room.

“Oh! You’re awake!”

“Heaven knows why.”

Damon sat next to him and offered him a cup of tea and two tiny white pain pills. He was wearing nothing but boxers as well. Alex saw the whole package as a neat little gift just for him, for what he didn’t know. He wondered if Graham got gifts in the morning too.

He swallowed the pills and took a gulp of tea. His tongue was numb but he felt it burn down his chest.

He turned to Damon and smiled. “It’s nice to wake up to you, even if I have got a splitting headache.”

Damon’s cheeks turned pink with either glee or embarrassment. Maybe from lack of oxygen. “Shower after your tea?”

Alex grinned and wondered what it would feel like to shower _alone,_ for once, but made no plans to find out.

———

Damon was out the door quickly, leaving a wet kiss on Alex’s cheek. He realised they hadn’t kissed on the mouth once. He chain smoked on his way to work.

———

Alex could count on one hand the number of people who came into the book store that day. At least he could read to pass the time. He charmed his way into double his usual amount of smoke breaks. Those old broads only hired him for his looks, anyway.

———

He walked in on Graham curled around a sketchpad on his bed. Arms crossed, he walked across the room and hovered over him. Without looking up, Graham showed him the sketch.

“What feeling does this convey?”

“Nausea.” Alex plucked the sketchpad from his hands and tossed it to the foot of the bed. He lied beside him, nestling into his shoulder.

Graham sighed. “You’re useless.”

Alex paused, for dramatic effect. “What’s it like waking up to Damon every morning?” His voice squeaked.

“Oh _god,_ Alex, you’re in love.”

“I’m just curious.” He shuffled closer to Graham and kissed his neck sweetly.

Graham thought for a moment. Alex could tell he was deciding whether or not he should lie.

“He sucks my cock every morning, then I’m off to work.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not.

He wanted to ask Graham what he thought Damon’s freckles tasted like, what word he would use to describe the feeling in his belly when he saw his smile, if he thought he smelled like cherries. He also wanted a cigarette. He didn’t want to be too obvious, so he lied still in silence.

“Would you like to make some music?”

Alex’s heart jumped to the front of his chest.

Graham hadn’t offered to make music with him in weeks. He wondered briefly if he meant it as an innuendo. He just looked up at Graham with a blank, wide-eyed stare.

“Like with guitars.”

Alex grinned. “Yes,” he said simply.

———

Playing guitars with Graham was the only interaction he had with him that wasn’t a battle for dominance. It was almost like a game of tag between them, Graham running off into some twinkling riff, Alex chasing him with a bass line growing in complexity, finally catching him and taking off in the opposite direction. They’d stop to catch their breath somewhere in a comfortable wall of sound with a groovy bass riff.

“That’s enough, Alex, I’m starting to slow down.” Graham smiled at him. Alex took his time coming back to reality.

He watched every careful step Graham took toward him, approaching him like he was a wild animal who could easily be spooked. He delicately took his bass guitar off him and set it on the amp. He crawled onto his lap and kissed his neck, tasting sweat and tonguing his pulse. Alex had forgotten about this part of the ritual.

He leaned his head back, giving Graham better access. He squeezed Graham’s hips and pulled him closer, the friction setting him off. Graham’s hands were snaking up his shirt and he was grinding into him, sucking on his neck more feverishly. Alex wondered how many marks he’d have by the end of it all.

Graham pulled his shirt off, his arms raising above his head before he knew what was happening. He pulled his own shirt off and gazed at Alex’s chest for a moment, almost as if he was looking for something. He seemed to find it, and dove in to place a kiss over Alex’s heart.

He climbed off him and lied on the bed, Alex following his body fluidly. He hovered over him, kissing him hungrily on the mouth, falling into him, fumbling with his own fly. Graham was in rare form — he was going to take complete advantage of every sensation he could offer him tonight.

His cock was finally free, but Graham wasn’t looking at it. He was looking up at Alex. The _yearning_ in his eyes was nauseatingly pathetic when he wasn’t trying to mask it behind boredom.

Alex inched closer to him, his cock finally finding his mouth and Graham taking him all in at once. He never broke eye contact as Alex held his head firmly in place and thrust into his mouth. Graham’s finger reached up between his legs and began preparing his body for what would come next. He let Alex fuck his mouth as he stretched him, Alex’s moans carrying through the thin walls of the flat.

He finally pulled away and guided Alex’s body down onto the mattress. He reached in his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom and an almost-empty bottle of lube. He quickly lubed his fingers and was on Alex again — thrusting back inside him and swallowing his moans. Alex saw the flashing club lights again, but all the faces in the sea of people were Graham’s.

Within minutes Graham had a second finger inside him, and was biting down on his shoulder. He thought _he_ should be the one biting into something. Graham’s fingers danced along his prostate and he bit into his lip, tasting blood. He half expected to smell cherries.

Graham pulled out of him and slipped the condom on. He guided himself back on Alex, pressing his tip against his entrance. He kissed him as he pushed himself inside, and Alex felt so completely _full_ he wanted to be sick.

———

Alex woke up naked in Graham’s bed, Graham was gone but his spot next to him was still warm. He must have hurried out as soon as he got up.

He went to the kettle — it was cold to the touch. He didn’t even make tea this morning. Maybe he got up late. _What time was he supposed to be at work again?_

He shuffled into his room and took in the mess. He saw that his red flowers had died. He frowned, and tossed them in the kitchen bin, rinsing out out the vase. The kettle whistled and he thought about bringing his cup of tea to the shower to keep him company.


	6. Uncertain Emotions Force An Uncertain Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgu-nQDSXnM

Alex came home from work to the sight of Graham sitting impatiently on the kitchen counter.

“We’ve got to go shopping, there isn’t anything to eat but bread.”

“I suppose that means toast for dinner. Have we at least got butter?”

“Since when do either of us allow ourselves the luxury of _butter?_ ”

Alex suddenly missed his mum. He wondered if he could sleep in Graham’s bed again tonight. He lit a cigarette and sat at the kitchen table, staring at the dirty mug in front of him. He’d left it there this morning, Graham must have missed it.

“You know, Alex, you could really use a decent meal, you’re looking like you’re on your death bed lately.”

“Look who’s talking, you look like you passed three weeks ago and they forgot to bury you.”

Graham laughed — it was real. Alex had forgotten what his genuine laughter sounded like. It made him smile.

“I’m trying to take you out for dinner, you tosser.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Feeling generous.”

Alex knew exactly what that meant. He stubbed his cigarette out and leaned back in his seat. “Ready when you are.”

———

They stayed in the restaurant long after they finished eating, chatting enthusiastically over tea, walking home in silence, Graham insisting they pick up some sort of flavoured vodka on the way. Alex couldn’t remember what flavour it was, he hoped it wasn’t cherry.

They made a game out of watching the news. Every time the busty news anchor caught herself looking too serious and adjusted her posture to something sexier, they took a swig. Every time the weather man referred to something as _wet_ or _slippery_ they had a snog.

Halfway through the bottle, Graham offered to make music with Alex. He wondered if this was going to become a regular occurrence again. He wondered if Graham wanted things to go back to the way they were before, not that they were much simpler then. As they played together lazily he wondered if Graham would ravish him again.

They finished the bottle and Graham noticed first.

“We’re out of vodka.”

“Whatever will we do now?”

Graham yawned and put his guitar back on its stand, turning his amp off and walking toward his bed, undressing as he did. “Now we will rest, I’m feeling old.” He crawled under the blankets and closed his eyes. Alex watched him for a while, unsure of what to do with himself.

“Well come on, now, get in,” Graham said, one eye open.

———

` When Alex woke up, Graham was still sound asleep. Today was his day off. He wanted to make him tea, but he was already late for work.

He got dressed and took one final look in the mirror. He decided every ounce of the meal he had last night was sticking to him in the most unflattering ways. His jumper looked too tight and he needed to shave. At least his hair hung effortlessly over his sunken eyes.

———

He sat with his nose buried in a book and his feet resting on the desk, ankles crossed. The bell on the door chimed, but he didn’t look up until he saw a hand on the desk on front of him and felt a presence hovering above him. He looked at the hand — its fingernails were painted a dull shade of red. He followed the arm attached to it up to Damon’s smiling face.

“I didn’t know you worked here.”

“It’s the only book shop in Essex.”

“I suppose I hadn’t put the two together. Can you help me find something, then?”

Alex put his book down and stood up, walking out from behind the desk, expecting Damon to follow him. “What is it you’re looking for?”

Damon caught up to him and followed him absentmindedly through the shop. “I’m looking for a devastating romance novel.”

“Have you read E. M. Forster?”

“I haven’t.”

“How uncultured of you. You should read _A Room With A View,_ I’ll help you find it, follow me.”

He weaved through the bookcases, Damon in tow, then found what he was looking for. He handed the book to him, and watched him look over the cover and read the back. His bright face beautifully contrasted the gloom that hung over the book shop. Alex wondered if he ever visited Graham at work. He wondered if they snogged in the back room.

“Thank you, Alex, this is lovely.” Damon delicately held his fingers and kissed his hand — a gesture that was pure romance. He appreciated a kiss on the hand far more than a back room snog, he decided.

———

When Alex got home he half expected Damon to be there. He opened the door and was greeted by the boy from the club — sitting in his boxers on his sofa smoking a cigarette. The boy looked startled and it was endearing.

“Hello,” the boy said awkwardly as Alex stripped himself of his outerwear.

“Hey there.” Alex gave him a once over and headed for the kitchen.

“I’m Louis.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Alex.” He opened the fridge and was met with a barren landscape.

“Graham, what the _fuck_ have you been up to all day if you haven’t gone to the shop for food?!” he yelled over his shoulder.

Graham sauntered in and leaned against the door frame. He was wearing one of Alex’s t-shirts and a pair of boxers.

“I’ve been smoking pot with this pretty young thing who said I could _paint_ him, isn’t that right, Louis?”

He turned to the boy on the sofa, who was watching him dumbly, the cigarette dying between his fingers.

“And why have you got my clothes on?” Alex slammed the refrigerator door shut.

“Well I didn’t want to get paint on _my_ clothes, obviously.”

“And you call me insufferable. I’m going out to find food, have fun with your new toy.” He threw his coat and shoes back on and was out the door again.

Louis blinked and put his cigarette butt in the ash tray. “You didn’t tell me you had a flatmate.”

Graham rolled his eyes and walked over to him, extending a hand for him to take. “He’s _hardly_ worth mentioning, love, come back to the bedroom.”

———

Alex was eyeing the champagne section, still fuming, when he felt an arm wrap around him from behind. He turned to see Damon, holding a basket full of goodies, smiling wide. His belly felt warm and he didn’t miss his mum anymore. He couldn’t remember if he’d smelled cherries or tasted blood.

“Are you following me?”

“Only when I see you. Are you buying more champagne?” he asked, innocently.

“I don’t know… I’m supposed to be buying food. There’s nothing at the house. Graham is too engrossed in his latest play thing to give a damn.”

Damon bit his cheek. He glanced from his basket and back to Alex. “Would you like to join me for dinner, then? I’m making stir fry.”

“You cook?”

“Just enough to survive, but I wouldn’t mind a guest.”

“Can I bring champagne?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Alex only bought one bottle of champagne this time. He only needed one.

———

Alex sat at Damon’s breakfast bar, nursing the bottle of champagne. His kitchen table was cluttered — unused. His flat was dreadfully barren, completely lacking in character. It looked like he was about to move out. The sad futon frowned at him from across the room, a pillow and blanket posing on it like someone was lying there. He imagined Damon lying there, watching his sad grey television on his sad grey futon. He turned around as red-tipped fingers placed a plate of food in front of him.

He didn't care what it tasted like, he was just happy to eat a meal he didn’t have to cook. He was getting fed and all he had to do was be charming.

“So were you just planning on sitting around here by yourself in your sad little flat all night?”

“Were you planning on drowning your sorrows in champagne while two pretty blokes shag in the room next to you all night?”

Okay, so Damon could be vicious.

“I come home and the bloke’s half-naked on my _sofa,_ ” Damon is starting to laugh now, “And Graham says he’s going to _paint_ him, or something.”

“Do you think that means paint a portrait of him or paint his body?”

“My god, you just _had_ to put that image in my head. You’re really rubbing my nose in it now.”

Damon cracked first, as usual. He thought Alex was so very entertaining.

———

They finished their meal and half the bottle of champagne. Damon was putting their plates in the sink.

“I like to do a little skag after I eat, care to partake?”

“Damon, are you an addict?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m just addicted to anything that makes me not have to be a person for a while.”

“We should hang out more often.”

———

Alex lied on Damon’s bed, watching him flip through his records. He had milk crates full of them, he wondered how he ever found what he was looking for.

He stopped and pulled out a record like it was a trophy he’d just won. “Do you like Joy Division?”

“I prefer New Order.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Well of _course_ you do.” He put the record on and crawled back on the bed.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I could think of a few things, but I’ll be nice.”

“Thanks for sparing me.”

Damon studied his face for a moment, before leaning forward and wiping an eyelash from under his eye. He presented it on his thumb, “Make a wish.”

Alex smiled. Damon had to be the _softest_ boy he’d ever met. He wanted to wish that he would have sex with him, but the thought itself made him instead wish that he would drown. He blew the eyelash away.

“What did you wish for?”

“If I tell you it won’t come true.”

“Oh, smart boy.”

Damon scooted closer to him and brushed some hair off his forehead. Alex watched how delicately his hands touched him.

“Your nails look nice.”

Damon looked at his nails. “It’s a lovely colour, isn’t it?”

“Did you paint them yourself?”

“I did. I saw the colour at the shop and it reminded me of you, so I had to buy it.”

Alex’s heart tried to jump out of his throat. He swallowed it back down. “You don’t have to blow up my skirt constantly for me to like you, you know.”

“I know. But it helps. And I’m being serious, red is your colour, and this is your shade.”

“Am I that dramatic and miserable?”

“Yes. What’s my colour?”

Alex thought for a moment. “Yellow.”

“Oh I hate yellow, why yellow?”

“I hate it too. It’s because you’re constantly blinding me with how bright you are.”

Damon’s face twisted into a look that said Alex was weird and confusing, but he was amused and flattered all the same.

He closed the ever-dwindling gap between them and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

When he pulled away Alex smiled at him, a lazy smile with half-lidded eyes. Damon’s smile was too enthusiastic, giving himself away once again. Alex touched his cheek, then pulled him in for another kiss. When he licked his bottom lip he opened his mouth, but instead of exploring his mouth he sucked on his lip. His teeth grazed his sensitive flesh as he pulled away, and he squeaked. Damon liked that. Alex couldn’t help but smile as he kissed him again. He wondered if Damon liked teeth elsewhere. His tongue finally wandered into his mouth, and for once he didn’t fight to take his prize for himself. He let Alex explore him, taste him, elicit strangled little cat-like noises from his lips.

Damon’s cold hands were running up his sides, trying to pull his shirt off, but he could wait. Alex’s mouth travelled to his neck, and when he found his pulse, he bit the skin there. The _noise_ Damon made was brilliant. He put that one in his back pocket for later.

Finally his shirt was off, and so was Damon’s, discarded to the floor and confused with the rest of the clutter.

Damon rolled him over and crawled on top of him. He kissed him — for a long time. Too long, Alex decided. He was getting antsy. He let his fingers run down Damon’s chest and rest casually at his belt buckle.

He seemed to come back to reality, and his hands flew to his belt. He began fumbling with it and pulled away, giving Alex a chance to take him in. His eyes looked like hurricanes on the moon and his lips were glistening. He got up to kick his trousers off, and Alex watched the muscles in his back shift. He wondered if he liked being bit there. Damon was on him again, trying to tug his trousers off as well. He was eager like a teenager.

He brushed his hips against Alex’s, and Alex bit his lip. He was surprised when Damon went for his collar bone instead of his mouth, he wondered where he’d learned that trick. He kept grinding into him as he left a trail of bruises along his collar bone.

He kissed down his chest and his fingers were already tugging his boxers down. The moment his cock was free Damon licked up the sensitive underside of his shaft, and took him in his mouth, thrusting his head down until he hit the back of his throat. He was far too enthusiastic, it would be endearing if you thought about it too long.

Damon didn’t spend long on his cock before he rolled over and grabbed a bottle of lube and a condom from the floor. Alex hadn’t noticed them there before. He pulled his boxers off and lubed up his fingers, Alex watching him curiously. He spread his legs and started massaging his entrance, looking at Alex. The _yearning_ in his eyes was far from pathetic.

Alex didn’t know what to do, so he crawled over and kissed him, his hand finding his cock and toying with him while he fingered himself.

It wasn’t long before Damon had two fingers in himself and was moaning and whining into Alex’s mouth. His hand searched the bed for the condom, and when he found it, he pulled away and held it in front of Alex’s face. He thought it was funny how restless Damon was, but Damon wasn’t laughing.

He pulled away and Damon rolled the condom on for him. He held his legs up over his shoulders and inched inside him, drawing out moans and cries and curses from Damon’s mouth. When he found his prostate, the _sound_ he made made Alex see a kaleidoscope of colours. He wondered if Damon saw the same colours.


	7. Did You Feel A Flicker In Your Brain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5gBOlOWCLs

Alex woke up facing the window. His eyes fluttered open and he took in the sleepy grey sky. A chill ran down his spine and he curled up closer to Damon. He was suddenly afraid of what Damon’s flat might be like when he wasn’t in it. The room was cold but it was warm in his bed. He wondered if Damon really did have the sun inside him.

He stirred beneath him before he could close his eyes again. He looked up at Alex, eyes bright and calm.

“You’re blinding me again,” Alex whispered.

Damon squinted at him. “What?”

Alex just grinned and kissed him. When he pulled away, Damon’s eyes were still closed. His eyelashes rested delicately and effeminately. Alex pushed the hair gently off his forehead.

“Got plans for today?”

Damon’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Work.”

“Mm, shame.” Alex kissed his forehead and rested his face in his hair. He always smelled sweet, and Alex thought about lying in a wheat field during a thunderstorm.

“Is today your day off?”

“Sure is.”

“Come see me after work. I’m done at five.”

“Maybe.”

Damon chewed on that answer for a moment. It was said too quickly to be a _hard_ maybe.

“Shower?”

“Fine.”

———

Damon made him tea before he left, leaving him there all alone in his miserable grey flat. Alex drifted around his room; there wasn’t much to snoop through. He thought he heard a ghost and was quickly out the door.

———

He didn’t want to go home. He smoked on benches and people watched instead. He studied the dull landscape and the dull potato-faced people that shuffled around in it. Winter was depressing him, but he just had to hold on one more month and spring would wash colour over everything again. He thought about baking something sweet, then he thought about eating it and grimaced. He wondered if Louis had left any weed at the flat, and he was back on his feet.

———

When he walked through the door no one was in the flat, and he thanked God and the Queen. Graham’s bedroom door was shut, and his hand hovered over the doorknob, but he thought better of it. He decided to clean his room and play his bass — it was refreshing.

He was finally bored and Graham wouldn’t be home for three more hours — not that he wanted to see him. He changed his clothes and walked to the pub before he had time to think about it.

———

He sat at the bar, nursing a cocktail. This place was dusty and too grown up for him. He rolled his shoulders back and sat tall. He was waiting for someone to approach him, and the bartender felt sorry for him.

He was three drinks deep when a woman finally sat beside him. She was drinking something pink and wearing a sweater with leggings. Her boots made her look like she was dressed more formally than she was, but Alex wasn’t impressed. Her hair hung in loose brown curls around her soft face, and her lips were faintly tinted with dull red.

“Why do you look so miserable?”

_What a stupid question._

“That’s just my face.”

There was nothing behind her dim green eyes. They reminded him of those depressing pine tree farms during Christmas time.

He ordered a forth drink while her tedious eyes studied him. He took an indulgent sip and raised an eyebrow at her.

“What’s bothering you? Is it a girl? I’ll have you know boys are _far_ more complicated.”

“They sure are.” His attention drifted somewhere far away. He wondered if he’d recognise this girl if he saw her again.

“They’re really a mess, aren’t they?” She shifted in her seat. Her posture looked uncomfortable. “I _never_ have trouble dealing with girls.”

Alex stared at her blankly and sipped his drink.

“Do you like flowers and chocolates and going on dates and all that?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Exactly! And so many men act like they’d rather just get a blowjob and go to bed.”

“I also like blowjobs and going to bed.”

She pursed her lips and studied him some more. He wondered what the hell she was looking for. He hoped she’d find it soon.

She ordered another drink and Alex realised she wasn’t planning on leaving soon. He wondered if they were going to snog later.

“Your girlfriend must think you’re so charming.”

“I haven’t got a girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

Alex shrugged. She obviously wanted to snog. She went about it poorly. He wished she’d get it over with and drag him to the bathroom already.

“Pity. I’m sure you get laid all the time, though.”

Alex wondered what constituted as _all the time._

“You don’t say much.”

“I want to make sure every word is worth my precious breath.”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely charming.”

He wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not. He was ready for his fifth drink and a cigarette. She was smiling at him and he felt like he didn’t exist.

“I’m Marissa, who are you?”

“Alex.”

“So, _Alex,_ what do you do?”

She was taking a step back. She threw her assumptions at him _then_ tried to know him.

“I work at a book shop.”

“But what do you _do?_ ”

“Suffer well.” He hated this question.

“You like Depeche Mode?”

He wished she hadn’t got the reference. He half expected her to start about the time she snogged Martin Gore behind a Tesco one humid summer’s eve.

“Do _you?_ ” He didn’t care.

“Oh they’re brilliant.”

He ordered his fifth drink.

“Would you like to go outside and have a fag with me?” She spoke suddenly, impatiently.

He was thinking about a cigarette anyway. The cold would be refreshing.

———

He was wrong. The cold was dreadful. His hand shook as he pulled his cigarette to his lips. Marissa looked comfortable and very pretty in her long, elegant coat.

“Are you cold?”

He wanted to spit. Why was she laughing?

She stepped closer to him. “Have you got anywhere to be tonight, Alex?”

He thought about Damon’s fresh morning face and looked at the sky. It was probably hours after Damon got off work.

“I’ve got a date.”

“Of course you do.” She stubbed her cigarette out on the cement wall next to her. She smoked much faster than Alex, even though her cigarettes were longer.

He wanted to ask her why she was so awkward. He wanted to make her say it.

“I should go.” He stepped forward and placed a kiss on her cheek — a gift for later. “It was nice knowing you.” He chose his words carefully.

He didn’t hear what she said after that because he was already walking away from her.

———

Damon stood before Alex in the doorway, a chipper disposition and eyes bright as ever. One of his sleeves was rolled up — revealing track marks. His hair was messy and his smile was genuine.

He lead Alex into the living room where he’d been evidently curled up in front of the telly — just as Alex had imagined him.

“I feel like I should’ve brought flowers or something, your flat is so _desolate._ ”

Damon smiled. “I don’t mind it, I’m never in the same place for long.”

“Will you be here for long?”

“I don’t know.” He answered too slowly, too carefully, for that to be the truth.

Alex flopped onto the futon, effortlessly comfortable. “I like you _here,_ you know.”

Damon sat next to him and kissed him — it tasted like an apology. “I need you to come with me to run an errand.”

“I didn’t come here to run errands with you.” _Running errands together is too intimate._

Damon gave him practiced, pleading eyes.

_He tripped._

“You couldn’t have done this before I got here? I gave you all the time in the world.”

“I’ll make it worth your time.”

_He fell._

———

Damon lead him to a tidy little flat just outside the city. It seemed much bigger once inside. It smelled like a tire factory. A couple of cute girls were kissing on an uncomfortable-looking sofa in the living room. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all but Damon had him by the hand and was yanking him upstairs. He thought he saw an exchange, but he felt like the lights were too bright to see anything. He thought Damon said something to him before he grabbed his hand again, but he couldn’t hear him over the sound of a refrigerator buzzing in his head.

———

They were in the basement, they were alone, and it was quiet. The sofa they were sitting on had a blanket clinging to it like a makeshift cover, and it was tacky. The room was dimly lit by a single overhead lightbulb. Damon was getting ready to do heroin, but Alex was admiring the room. There were instruments everywhere — a bass guitar, two electric guitars and one acoustic, a drum set, keyboards.

“Do the people who live here make music?”

He hadn’t realised Damon was talking.

“Sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay… well yeah, sometimes? I guess?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Those instruments belong to the house.”

“Can we play them?”

“I was actually going to invite you to _after_ heroin.” He gestured to the elastic tie in his hand.

“Right… sorry.”

“Ladies first?” He asked as he tugged at Alex’s sleeve.

———

Damon made the keyboard _cry_ when he played it. Damon’s music felt like an extension of himself, and all Alex could do was watch in awe and try to keep up. He made his instrument sound so miserable. All it needed was a firm bass riff to keep it in place. Damon didn’t run off and beg to be chased, he let Alex stay in time with him, slowly building until they swallowed the song whole. Alex had always wondered what it would be like to play the game this way, he was afraid of the unknown. When it blew up in his face he didn’t have the chance to curse himself for depriving himself of it for so long.

“Was that as _transcendental_ as I think it was?”

“Alex, don’t be dramatic.”

“Don’t play coy, you know you felt it.”

Damon’s face cracked into a smile. _Of course it did._

“It felt like sinking into quicksand.” _This_ was the Damon Alex wanted more of.

“Being sucked underground into a warm, dark womb.”

“That’s poetic.”

“Music is poetry.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Let’s go back to my flat.”

———

They cuddled up on Damon’s sad grey futon, tucked into his sad grey blanket. The telly was on but Alex wanted to do anything but watch it. He was suddenly very exhausted.

The light from the television made Damon’s skin look washed-out. Alex wondered how his eyes could look so _present_ all the time with all the heroin he did. Drugs made people fade away until there was nothing left of them but a husk, but Damon seemed more like he was ready to shed his skin and fly away. He was bursting at the seams with personality.

He turned to him and smiled, amused. Alex felt like he was blooming. He wondered if his expression opened up the way his face felt like it was.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He genuinely had no idea what his face looked like right now. He hoped it was at least handsome.

“Like… you’re staring at the sun.”

“Because I am.”

“Christ, Alex.”

“What?” 

Damon just smiled and shook his head. He kissed him — leaning in too far and falling into him. 

“Come to bed with me. You _are_ staying tonight, aren’t you?”

“If you want me to.”

“My bed is cold without you in it.”

“You think _I’m_ the one creating all that body heat?”

Damon giggled. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

“I’m sorry, you were doing a terrible job. Please, start over.”

“Come get in my bed, you tosser. I’m too tired for this.”

———

Damon snored lightly like a cat and twitched in his sleep. He liked to have his face buried in a chest or a pillow when he slept. He liked the blankets pulled all the way up to his face. He always slept curled onto his side, and if you kissed him in his sleep his mouth would twitch as if he was trying to smile. 

When he played music he put his soul on display, turning it inside out so you could admire its innards. When he came the _sound_ he made was almost melodic. His smile made you feel whole. His eyes reflected light you didn’t even know was there. He was eager to fall in love and reeled himself in in an almost comical fashion. Alex wondered how many other people knew these things about him. He wondered what other little things about Damon he could learn.


	8. Empty Veins and My Plastic Broken Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kc0-tJmvDDA

When Alex woke up, Damon wasn’t curled up into his chest, much to his dismay. He sat up and frowned, shivering. He wrapped the duvet around his shoulders and shuffled into the kitchen, where he found Damon at the counter stirring a cup of tea.

“Oh! You’re up, I was going to bring you tea, here.” He placed the cup on the breakfast bar and Alex sat in front of it.

“I’ve got to work early this morning, I’m glad you got up before I left. I was worried I wouldn’t get to see you.” He sat next to him with his tea and smiled at him.

“Are you cold?” he asked, observing how Alex was wrapped up in the blanket, hugging himself.

“You left me in that bed all alone. I told you, _you_ generate all the body heat.”

Damon giggled and kissed his cheek. “You’re so grumpy in the morning, it’s very cute.”

“You’re too cheerful in the morning, it gives me a headache.”

“Shut up. I’m your favourite thing to wake up to.”

Alex blushed. He didn’t know why he was blushing. He wanted to ask what Damon was doing after work. He wondered what his life was like when Alex wasn’t around. He thought he shouldn’t impose. He was just a piece of Damon’s life. He wondered if the other pieces were as miserable as he was.

“I should finish getting ready, I’ve got to go soon. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like while I’m gone, just lock the door on your way out.”

“I don’t like being alone in your flat, there’s ghosts here. This place is haunted.”

Damon smiled wide and bright. It was too early for smiling.

“Those ghosts are my friends.”

“That’s why they’re quiet when you’re here. They don’t like me.”

“They just haven’t gotten to know you yet.” He kissed him on the cheek again and hopped off his stool, heading for the bathroom.

Alex looked at his empty tea cup. How did he drink it so fast? He took a sip of his own tea. It was exactly the way he liked it.

———

Graham greeted him with a hug at the door, much to his surprise.

“Where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen you in two days.”

Alex’s face twisted into a quizzical expression as he held Graham by the waist in front of the door.

“Were you actually _worried_ about me, Graham?”

“Of course I was, I know you can’t take care of yourself out there.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks mum.”

Graham rolled his eyes and pulled away. “You _smell_ sweet, have you been with Damon?”

Alex grinned. “You think he smells sweet too?”

Graham made a sympathetic face. “You’re falling in love.” His eyes searched Alex’s face, trying to find something behind it.

“Please, Graham, my heart is already taken. Don’t get jealous.”

“I’m hardly jealous, you twat. I need you present. Don’t slip into your shitty little void again.”

_How could being in love with Damon drag him anywhere but up into the light of the sun?_

“I’m taking a shower, I’ve got work.”

Graham wanted to follow him, but he didn’t know what he’d do with him once he had him.

———

Alex was hunched over a book. Alex was always hunched over a book. He was writing a story in his head that was much different than whatever he was reading.

The bell on the door chimed. He didn’t look up. He never looked up.

He decided it was time for a fag, and when he got up there she was — what the fuck was her name. Miranda? Melissa?

“Hello, you.”

“I realised I never got your number.”

“I never gave it to you.”

She blinked, taken aback.

He blinked, trying to come back to reality.

“How did you find me?”

“You said you worked at a book shop. This is the only book shop in Essex.”

He smiled. She wouldn’t get the joke.

“Would you like to smoke a fag with me?”

“Oh, is it your break?”

He couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, but she thought it was charming.

———

He couldn’t tell what she was wearing under her fancy coat, but she had those godawful boots on again. She looked prettier when Alex was sober.

“How did your date go?”

“What?”

“You said you had a date last night.”

“Oh… right. It was marvellous.”

“Tell me about the lucky… guy? Girl? I can’t pin you.”

“His smile makes you want to ring your mum.”

She laughed. He half expected her to just walk away from him, laughing all the way home.

“Can you pin me now?” He was asking her to do him a favour.

“I think you’re too much of a romantic to care what’s in peoples’ trousers.”

“That’s wildly inaccurate. I care very much about what’s in peoples’ trousers.”

“You didn’t say you weren’t a romantic, though.”

“You got me there.”

She smiled. There wasn’t anything special about her smile, but it was pleasant to look at, just like the rest of her. She was just pretty. Nothing beneath the surface.

“I’ll see you again, Alex.”

She left him there in the cold with his cigarette and a bitter taste in his mouth. He wondered if she’d really been there or if he was hallucinating. He was offended she didn’t buy a book. He touched his collar bone, searching for a string of pearls to clutch.

When he sat back down at his book, there was a scrap of paper lying on it. It was her phone number — of course. Her name was Marissa. He tucked the note back in the book and turned the page.

———

When he got home the flat was clean and Graham was sitting pretty, perched on the sofa like he’d been anxiously awaiting Alex’s return. He half expected there to be a pie in the oven.

He took off his coat and shoes and flopped onto the sofa — his limbs spreading wildly around him. He closed his eyes and sighed at the ceiling.

Graham crawled on top of him and started kissing his neck. He didn’t want to have sex tonight — neither of them did.

“Tired?” he hummed in his ear.

He nodded and opened his eyes and now Graham was looking at him. He’d submit to whatever Graham wanted tonight — he felt deflated and empty inside and curious about what Graham could _fill_ him with.

“Where’d you go, Alex?”

“To work.”

“No, you idiot. I mean right now. Where are you right now? I can’t see you behind your eyes anymore.”

Alex was lying in a field of red flowers — all of them dead. The sun was shining so bright he couldn’t see, but he felt a chill. Red fingernails dragged against his pale flesh.

He looked at Graham and smiled. _Why wasn’t he smiling back?_

“I want to paint a picture.”

“Alex, can we talk?”

“Can I borrow your things? Please?”

“You’re not painting a _fucking_ picture, Alex. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“What do you _want,_ Graham?”

“I want you to wake up, I want you to come back to reality. I want you to stop floating around here like a fucking phantom and come back to me.”

“You want me to come back to _you._ ”

“Isn’t that where you belong?” Graham’s voice was near a whisper now.

Graham was right. Graham was always fucking right.

“Won’t you let me off my leash, Gra?” His tone was venomous. He only called him that when he was trying to be sweet.

“Every time I do you run away and three weeks later some poor boy shows up on my doorstep with you in a basket asking for reward money.”

Alex smiled. “I’m your little lap dog.”

Graham’s devilish smirk was back. He leaned in so their faces were inches apart. “Aren’t you, though?” He closed the gap between their lips and Alex thought he tasted less pathetic than usual.


	9. You've Got Blue Blood On Your Hands, I Know It's My Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQDymiZeDGI
> 
> Cameo by Liam Gallagher!

Graham was back to his usual self. The sun was melting the gloom off the landscape, and Alex was feeling too comfortable. It had been four days since he saw Damon, four days since he’d made love to Graham, twelve hours since he’d drank champagne. He still wanted to paint a picture but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Alex was on the sofa, watching the ice melt outside, droplets of water streaming down the window. He was pulling at his sleeves to cover his icy fingers, while still leaving two free to hold a cigarette. Graham looked like he was about to drown himself in his tea. It was too early in the morning, his personality hadn’t arrived yet.

“We should go out tonight.” Alex’s words didn’t float around the room for long before they dissipated. He wondered if Graham heard him.

Graham looked up from his tea, blinking at the wall in front of him. He looked like he didn’t know where he was.

“I think we should wait at least twelve hours before thinking about that.”

“We’ve been cooped up in this flat for four days. I want to go outside and feel how the temperature’s changed.”

“You act like that’s such a long time. What do you think you’ve been missing out on?”

“Don’t you get bored, Graham? Aren’t you _always fucking bored?_ ”

“I haven’t got the time to be bored, Alex.”

“Oh yes. Your life is so busy and exciting.”

“I’m sorry yours is so empty and dull. I wish you weren’t always wishing you were somewhere else, someone else. I miss when you were part of my life.”

Just like that, Graham was on his shit again. Alex still didn’t know what he was on about. He heard the fridge buzzing in his head again. He realised Graham was looking at him.

“What?”

“You’ve got nothing to say to that?”

“I guess not.”

Graham looked like he either wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face. He couldn’t tell which. He got up and silently left the room. Alex wished he would’ve at least yelled at him, or something. He thought about following him and asking if he could take a nap in his bed before work.

———

Alex thought about Graham all day at work. He thought about that sly smirk of his, the way his sarcastic brown eyes looked at him when he had him where he wanted him. Graham missed having all his affections, all the attention. He acted like he didn’t know Alex would always come bouncing back up to him, like a yo-yo, before he dropped him off somewhere new. He decided to see Damon after work, _that only made sense._

———

He picked up a bouquet of yellow flowers on his way there. Damon wasn’t home, so he sat on his front step and waited for him. He knew how pathetic he looked, sitting there waiting on some beautiful boy, flowers in his hand. He thought smoking a cigarette would help his image, but it ended up making it worse. He decided the street Damon lived on complimented his flat well, dull and grey. Even the sun shining on it didn’t help.

He didn’t have to wait long for Damon to come strolling up the footpath. He didn’t notice Alex sitting there until he was right in front of the flat. He smiled wide when he saw him, naturally. He was white as a ghost and looked like he’d been sweating, but when he touched his hands they were cold. His nail polish was chipping — it suited him.

“I’m sorry, how long have you been waiting?”

“Not long, no worries.”

“Are the flowers for me?”

“They’re for the ghosts. I’m trying to get them to like me.”

He couldn’t help but squint when he smiled again.

———

Damon didn’t have any vases, so he put the flowers in a sad-looking plastic cup and put them on his cluttered kitchen table.

They studied the display, faces twisted with contemplation. 

“They’re very yellow,” Damon observed.

Alex picked up the flowers and moved them to the end table beside the futon. He stepped back and looked it over.

“This is better. Next to your miserable futon they look _tragic_ instead of just _sad._ ”

Damon shrugged and drifted to his bedroom, returning with everything he needed to do heroin. He sat on the futon and went to work.

“Would you like some?” He didn’t look up when he spoke.

Alex sighed. “Alright.”

———

“I invited Graham to go out tonight.”

“Go out where?”

“Mm, I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Am I invited?”

“Of course you are, that’s why I’m telling you.”

“Can I pick the place?”

“That would be helpful.”

“Can I have a shower first?”

“Why don’t you do that at my place, I’ll join you. My shower is better than yours.”

———

Graham seemed pleased to see Damon, _almost_ like he missed him. He wasn’t impressed when they immediately hurried to the shower together.

Alex insisted Damon wear his clothes, he wanted to show him off tonight and his drab wardrobe was making that difficult. His clothes were a bit too big for him but he looked charming, drowning in fashion.

———

Damon picked a crusty little dive downtown, a refreshing change from the swanky modern places Graham always took him to. There was a godawful punk band playing on stage. Damon went straight for the bathrooms as soon as they got there, probably to do heroin. Alex and Graham headed for the bar.

Three double shots in and Graham was tired of waiting for Damon. He took his drink to the dance floor and instructed Alex to go looking for him.

When he didn’t find Damon in the bathroom, he went searching along the dark walls of the club. Maybe he’d found a safe little corner to ride out his high in.

In a dimly lit corner there were two worn leather sofas, a small group crowded around lounging on them. Alex spotted Damon on some bloke’s lap. Damon saw him and motioned for him to come over.

“Alex! This is Liam, he works here.” He smiled at the boy under him, who was eyeing Alex like he was deciding where to take his first bite.

He sat next to them and Damon leaned in and whispered, “do you like acid?”

“Um… I suppose —“

Damon’s lips came crashing into his, forcing his tongue inside his mouth. He felt him drop a tiny scrap of paper onto his tongue before he pulled away. This night was not going to go as planned, however that was. Alex braced for impact.

Damon giggled as if someone had tickled him. Alex wondered if Liam had, but he looked too distracted.

“Should we see if Graham wants some too?”

“Graham doesn’t like hallucinogens, they make him think girls are pretty.” It was half a lie.

Damon tried blinking the innocent confusion from his eyes. “But girls _are_ pretty.”

Alex was crazy about girls, but he couldn’t think of a single one he’d ever met that was prettier than Damon right now.

“Girls are _beautiful,_ Damon.”

As if on cue, Alex felt the weight on the sofa shift, and he turned to what looked like a cheap Amy Winehouse knock-off. She had on a leopard print dress, leather jacket, and boots. Her hair wasn’t as good and her make-up looked like she’d put it on in the dark. Alex wondered if she’d fetch him another drink.

“ _Damon,_ who’s your pretty friend?” Her eyes never left Alex, staring down at him like a hawk and making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He wondered if everybody said Damon’s name like it was made of liquid.

“Suzie, this is Alex. Isn’t he lovely?” Damon made him feel like a pet, and he loved it. He supposed that was where he belonged.

“Does he dance?” He glared at her. He was a lap dog, not a show pony.

Damon was looking down at him smiling bright as always, his eyes glistening despite the low light in the club. He knew what he was asking and he couldn’t say no to that face. Damon got up and pulled him up with him.

“C’mon,” he whispered in his ear, and suddenly they were following Suzie to the dance floor.

“Liam! Are you coming?” he shouted back. Liam just raised an eyebrow, and that seemed to be enough of an answer for him.

The music was atrocious and Alex was searching desperately for a beat to move to. He tried swaying his shoulders to whatever the bassist was doing but it was too incoherent and messy. He bobbed awkwardly and watched his parters. Suzie was bouncing and doing something odd with her arms, spinning around in a mad attempt at catching Damon’s gaze. He was jumping erratically in circles around her. It was truly a sight to behold.

Damon bounced over to him and danced on him, sliding their hips and torsos together and wrapping his arms around his neck.

Alex leaned in and yelled in his ear, over the music, “I don’t know how to dance to this.”

“Don’t think about it, just move!”

He giggled and moved away from him, backing into Suzie. She danced against him as if she had been waiting for him all night.

The song fluidly began morphing into something more coherent, the bass riff grooving into something melodic yet gritty. The drums followed, anchoring the rhythm, before the guitar started twinkling. Alex felt his feet start moving, and before he knew it his eyes were closed and his hands were above his head, steadying the motion of his hips.

Suzie was in front of him suddenly, handing him a new drink. He didn’t know what it was and he didn’t know what happened to his last one, but he sipped it gratefully and gave her his most charming grin. She blushed and he wondered if Damon had ever snogged her, or more. He thought about her red lipstick smeared all over Damon’s face, and grabbed her hand, beckoning her to dance with him. She came close to him, breathing on his neck, and she was all hips. His pointy hip bones brushed against hers, all her softness cushioning all his sharpness.

Damon was behind her now, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her away, practically lifting her off the ground. She giggled and let him take her place in front of Alex. He was all hips too, but his were firm and harshly complimented his movements. Then he was kissing Damon, forcefully and hungrily, his mouth becoming a black hole he got lost in. When he came up for air he had Damon shoved up against the side of a speaker, looking up with wild, half-lidded eyes. He could feel the vibration of the bass through Damon’s body, and he couldn’t imagine how that must feel for him. He took a sip of his drink then attacked Damon’s neck, sucking and biting and kissing his racing pulse. 

The club seemed darker now, the lights from the stage dancing along Damon’s cheekbones sent Alex into sensory overload. Only his hips and his tongue were dancing now, dancing along the cool sunny landscape that was Damon’s body. Damon pulled away and lead him through the crowd and to the bathroom, where they fell into a stall, attached at the hips and mouth. Alex wasn’t sure if he could preform on hallucinogens, but he wanted to crawl all over Damon regardless. He didn’t care if anyone else was in the bathroom as he fumbled with Damon’s fly.

His hand slid into Damon’s trousers and began stroking him, Damon moaning into his mouth. His hands were so _cold,_ and Damon was so _hot,_ he almost wanted to pull his hand away like he’d been burned.

Damon leaned his head against the wall and looked at Alex with evocative blue eyes like he was trying to tell him something. Alex had no idea what he was trying to say to him, but his own mind was going on about something relating to the taste of his cock in his mouth, so he indulged.

Now he was on his knees before him, his cock down his throat, Damon’s arms pinned at his sides, fingers clawing at the wall behind him. He held him by the hips and choked on him, his gag reflex lost somewhere along the way. Damon’s fingers found his and held them, twitching and squeezing with every little moan that escaped his mouth.

Before long Damon was thrusting into him, Alex trying not to smile with delight. He sucked the orgasm out of him, drinking every drop of it, Damon’s cries echoing through the dingy bathroom.

He rose to his feet and tucked him back into his trousers, kissing him sweetly. What he said next he predicted so accurately he could’ve mouthed the words along with him.

“Wanna do some skag?”

“I think the acid is enough, love.”

Damon shrugged and moved away from him, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his things out of his pockets. 

Alex stumbled out of the bathroom, intent on finding Graham now, but he was soon distracted by the bar. He drifted to an empty seat and ordered another drink. He was served by Liam. Liam had dramatic eyelashes and a tragic hair cut. His eyebrows were even worse than Damon’s. He eyed Alex like he’d already had a boy about his size for breakfast. He looked like the type of boy Alex always tried to charm, but always failed at. 

“Your name is Liam, right? Such a charming name, but it doesn’t suit you.”

Liam’s expression was bored. “You’re Alex. Androgynous, suits you well actually.”

“It’s actually my middle name. My real name is Steven.” _Why did he tell him that?_

“That’s unfortunate.” _It really was._

He sipped his drink quickly in case he lost him in any lull in conversation. He felt like he was falling off his stool, but when he gripped the bar to catch himself he wasn’t sure if he’d really fallen. He felt the bass from the speakers in his chest and his hand felt clammy, slippery on the surface of the bar. It was too dark and he felt like he was surrounded by ghosts. He thought it would be safer to ride the stool around the club rather than walk. _Oh god, Liam was looking at him._

Liam laughed and Alex could almost hear it over the music. Alex laughed too, because Liam was laughing.

“You’re trippin’ balls mate. Where’s Damon? He should be looking after you.”

He looked toward the bathrooms. Damon must have gotten swallowed up by the sea of ghosts. He decided he wanted a cigarette and to find that leather sofa.

———

He swore it took him hours to find the damn sofas. His drink was empty and he felt dehydrated. He spotted Suzie on the sofa talking to some faceless bloke. She looked elegant and very soft, so he gravitated toward her.

“Alex, there you are. Are you having fun?”

He must have looked pathetic because she took his empty glass and handed him a fresh drink. His guardian angel. She was so beautiful.

“Are you alright, love?” He couldn’t tell if she was smiling but her face looked bright and warm so he smiled back at it.

“I’ve never been better.” He wasn’t sure if he’d actually said that or just thought it, but he must have done something funny because now she was laughing and kissing his cheek. He blushed and wondered if she left a messy lipstick stain.

She reached into her bra and pulled out a pack of fags, offering one to him. He suddenly wanted her to like him very much.

She lit his cigarette, and he swore it was the best cigarette he’d ever tasted. He sucked the smoke to the bottom of his lungs, feeling it settle there like a weight before he exhaled the pressure out of his ballooning head.

“Wow, you were really dying for a smoke eh?”

He smiled gratefully. He watched her attention snap to just past his head, and he was genuinely upset to have lost it.

“There you are you tosser, where’s your better half?” _Oh, he’d forgotten about Graham!_

He turned to face him with a welcoming grin. He could have swore he saw a flash of anger on Graham’s face, but it was soft by the time he met his gaze.

“Where have you been all night?”

Alex looked around, taking in his surroundings. He couldn’t see anything but shadows and flashes of light. He ran his sweaty palms against the leather sofa and grimaced at the sensation. He turned back to Graham, wide-eyed.

“I’ve been right here.”

Graham’s face twisted like he was holding in laughter. “For the love of God, Alex, you’re high as a kite. What did you take?”

If Graham wasn’t going to laugh, then he would laugh for him.

“Christ, Alex, where is Damon?”

“The ghosts took him, he drowned.”

Graham bit his tongue until he tasted blood. “Where did you see him last?”

Alex thought for a moment. That must have been days ago. “Toilet.”

“Right, let’s go find him.” Graham offered his hand for Alex to take, and he felt pretty as he did.

Graham literally dragged him through the club, he had no idea how his feet were moving beneath him. Maybe he wasn’t actually walking and Graham was just pulling him along in a little cart.

Damon was leaned over the bathroom counter, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His lips were parted and he look petrified as he studied his face.

“Damon, are you alright? Are you ready to go home?” Graham approached him as gently as he had Alex.

“Graham!” He turned like he hadn’t heard them walk in. “Alex, you found him! I’m fantastic, I’ve just woken up from a refreshing nap in the toilet stall over there.”

Alex was smiling because Damon was smiling. Graham was looking sympathetic. He took Damon by the hand and pulled him towards the door.

“Why is your hand so sweaty?” Damon tried to pull away but Graham held him firmly.

“That’s _your_ hand, you tosser. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ve got to put you slags to bed.”


	10. Aching and Longing and Never Ending Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0P9XcvpKAI0

Alex woke up feeling grimy and like he couldn’t pry his eyes open all the way. He was in his bed, Damon shivering against his chest. He pulled the blanket over both of them and held him close.

Damon seemed to jolt awake at the sensation of being touched. He squinted at Alex, a pained expression on his face, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He looked pale and he was still shivering.

“Jesus, Damon, you look like shite. Are you alright?”

“I think… I’m going to be sick.”

“Please don’t throw up in my bed.”

Damon tried to smile. It looked broken.

He moved Damon’s hair off his forehead and kissed him there, tasting salt. “I’m going to make you some tea, alright? Stay here and stay warm.”

Damon sort of nodded and Alex got to his feet, propelling himself awkwardly toward the kitchen. He felt woozy and like his bones were vibrating under his skin, he swore he could hear them rattling. He went straight to the kettle, which was hot to the touch.

“Oh good, you’re alive. Is Damon still breathing as well?” He hadn’t noticed Graham on the sofa. He swung around to face him and it made him dizzy. He was wrapped in a blanket with a cup of tea in his hands.

“Graham…” He meant to say something else but the floor was buzzing beneath his feet and it made his knees feel weak.

“Alex.”

He looked at the kettle forlornly. “Can you help me?”

Graham rolled his eyes but got up and went to the cupboard anyway. He poured two cups of tea and lead Alex back to his bedroom.

Damon was nothing more than a shuddering lump beneath the blanket. Graham looked sympathetic and sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Get up Damon, have some tea, you’ll feel better.”

He barely poked his head out of the blanket, but reached for the tea like that cup held his salvation.

“Hurry up and feel better, I can’t be babysitting you lot all day. I’ve got my own hangover to nurse. Alex, come help me make toast or something.”

Alex just groaned.

“Fine, five minutes.” He got up and left.

Alex slid into the bed next to Damon, who pressed himself against his side like he could suck some life force from Alex’s body and feel better. He put his arm around him and kissed his temple. He was still damp with sweat but smelled sweet all the same.

“I can’t stay for long.” His hands shook as he lifted the tea cup to his lips.

“At least eat something and have a shower before you go, you’re a right mess. I couldn’t live with myself if I sent you out in the cold in the state you’re in.”

He kissed him on the corner of the mouth suddenly, meeting him with his shiny smile and bright, tired eyes. He wondered how sick he had to be for the light from his eyes to fade.

“You’re good to me, Alex, thank you. You treat me delicately, and I think I need that sometimes.” He rested his head on Alex’s shoulder and sighed.

“I think we all need that sometimes.”

———

Alex offered to walk him home, but he insisted he had errands to run before he’d be on his way home anyway, so he sent him off with a few extra kisses at the door. He turned to see Graham eyeing him from the sofa with his big, judging cow eyes.

“What?”

He pursed his lips, looking concerned. “Come sit with me, I haven’t felt you all day.”

He sits down and Graham is instantly curled up against him, pinning him to the spot. He smells something warm and inviting, and remembers when he and Graham used to curl up on the sofa like this for hours. He decides he misses Graham, misses getting to know him. He remembers when they first moved in together, when he thought he was the most interesting and intelligent thing in the world. Not much had changed, but the experience that was Graham was less intoxicating now. He used to get drunk on conversations with Graham, on the feeling of having him in his arms. He used to get dizzy from making music with him, Graham not even giving him a moment to steady himself before thrusting him into another wave of euphoria, crawling all over him and clinging to him like he might float away if wasn’t there. Now when they spoke it was like spitting venom at each other, trying to bring the other to his knees, trying to get him to submit himself to a comfortable rut of longing. And when they touched, it was like they hadn’t in years. Desperate to pull something out of the other man, perhaps his still beating heart.

He kissed Graham, and Graham kissed back like he’d been listening to his thoughts and counting down the seconds before he made his move. He always kissed him like this, like he was expecting Alex to come at him at any moment with something resembling passion. His hand found the back of Alex’s head, and he was hovering above him now, pushing him down into the sofa. His hands were on Graham’s hips, pulling him into him, Graham’s fingers now hopelessly tangled in his hair. Graham pulled away, looking down at him like he wanted to tell him he _loved him_ — but they both knew he wouldn’t say it. This was the part of the dance where Graham was supposed to attack his neck and start grinding into him. This was the part where that pathetic look of yearning glazed over him and he pulled Alex down under the waves and devoured him whole.

But Graham missed his cue. He slowly wrapped his arms around Alex and held his head tight on his chest. He inhaled the smell of his hair and Alex feared for his life. He kissed his head and suddenly his heart beat was evident — erratic and heavy.

“Can I have you today, Alex?”

He looked up at him and squinted, confused.

“What’s left of you, anyway.”

He nodded slowly, still not sure what he was agreeing to. He couldn’t read Graham’s expression, but it didn’t matter because now he was kissing him again — this time slowly and carefully, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right.

———

Alex found himself shirtless in Graham’s bed, smoking a fag somewhere far away. Normally Graham didn’t let him smoke in bed, but when he defiantly lit a cigarette, he didn’t say anything. Graham was sketching him, not letting him peek until he presented the finished product. It must have been lifetimes since Graham last drew him.

The air in the room was heavy and stale and Alex wanted to go outside. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Stop fidgeting.”

“Piss off, I barely moved.”

Graham just rolled his eyes and turned back to his sketch book.

“I want to go outside, can we go for a walk?”

“God, Alex, you’re a child.”

“Please?”

“Fine. I suppose our lungs will thank us.”

———

 

They found themselves lost outside the city, an ugly grey factory to one side and a lonely wheat field to the other. Alex ran his fingers along the cold metal fence that surrounded the factory. The sun was still high in the radiant blue sky, puffy white clouds floating past each other. He felt closer to the clouds than to the ground anchoring his feet to the present.

“Give me another cigarette.” Graham’s voice popped his daydream bubble and he came floating back to reality.

“I thought we were doing something good for our lungs,” he said, already digging in his jacket pocket for the pack.

Graham said nothing, just held out his fingers to accept the cigarette.

“Do you think Damon made it home alright?” Alex asked, lighting his cigarette and Graham’s.

“God, Alex, why don’t you marry him?”

He thought about how charming Damon might look in a suit. He wondered what kind of flowers Damon might pick out for their wedding. He thought how he might propose to Damon, would he prefer it be extravagant or simple? Would he dance like he had at the club at the reception? _What did Graham just say?_

“Graham! For Christ’s sake.”

“What? You’re head over heels for him, Alex. It’s exhausting.”

“Exhausting? How are _you_ exhausted? You’re so jealous it’s pathetic.”

“Will you stop fucking saying I’m jealous?” Graham stopped in front of him, looking vicious but small as ever, like a terrier waiting for the opportunity to attack him. “Do you not understand how you get when you’re infatuated with someone?”

“No, I really don’t, Graham. And how can you be upset? You fucking introduced us! Do you not remember how you just couldn’t _wait_ for us to meet?”

“It always seems good for you at first, to peel you off me for one fucking moment and let someone else deal with you. It wakes you up, brings you back to life. But then you inevitably fall in love because you wear your heart on your sleeve and then you’re dead again. You disappear into them, you completely lose your sense of self and become this miserable lovesick automaton. I can’t stand being around you when you think you’re in love with someone, Alex.”

“You only want me to be in love with _you,_ but not _too_ in love, because that’s annoying, isn’t it? You’re so selfish it makes you look sick. You can’t just have me any way you want me.”

“The only way I want you is as you are, when you’re yourself. I liked you better when your drug of choice was cocaine, not being in love. You’ve let your drug of choice swallow you whole, just like any other addict.”

Alex swallowed dryly, swallowed Graham’s words. Graham _did_ want things to go back to the way they used to be. He wanted Alex to go back to before he ever fell in love, but how could he do that now? How could he fall out of love, forget how it felt to be in love, and start all over like nothing ever happened? How many times could he start again and repeat the process before he couldn’t feel anything at all anymore? Could he go to rehab for his condition?

“How could you ask me to just fall out of love?”

“I’m not asking you to do anything like that,” Graham’s voice was softer now, “I’m asking you to stay, here, while you’re in love.” He searched the sky for a moment, looking for his thoughts, trying to untangle them and spit them out in a cohesive manner. “It’s like… when you’re in love, you go away for a long time, and you don’t come home or ring me to tell me you’re okay or anything. It’s like I don’t hear from you for months. Then when they leave you don’t ever leave my side. I’m just asking you to… check in once in a while. So I know you’re still in your head.”

“I don’t… think I’m actually in my head.” 

“You’re in there somewhere, buried alive.”

“Will you dig me out?”

“You can only dig yourself out.”

———

Graham’s words had scared him, made him want to crawl into a hole and hide. He was never good at helping himself. He didn’t even know where to begin. He hid in his bed for the rest of the day, Graham ignoring him, letting him wallow.

———

He woke up early the next morning, still in his clothes, the sun barely in the sky. He had work today, and he was up much too early for it. He groaned, he’d probably been asleep for ten hours, not a chance he’d fall back into it now. He decided to see how many cigarettes he could smoke before he had to get ready.

He stumbled into the living room, finding Graham already sitting on the sofa, reading a paper, a cigarette between his lips.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Alex sat next to him and lit a cigarette. He didn’t look up from his paper.

“Do you ever sleep?”

“Not much, love.”

They smoked in silence for a while and Alex felt like he could cry. He was gripped by fear and kept looking at Graham, feeling like he should say something.

Graham finally sighed and put his paper down, stubbing his cigarette out.

“Come here, you sweet, pitiful thing.”

Alex put his cigarette out and scooted over to him, resting his head on his shoulder. Graham held him loosely around the shoulders.

“It’s not as scary as you think. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I don’t know what to do, Graham.”

“You don’t really have to do anything. Just suck it up and chances are you’ll be thrust out the other end of this thing unscathed.”

Alex looked up at him, looking like a kicked puppy. “Is it really that simple?”

“It’s always that simple, Alex.”


	11. Inflation, and Now This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter!!!! Finally it's finished. I want to thank each and every one of you for your kind comments and kudos. I'm sorta proud of this story and it means a lot to me that you all love it too. xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2skwmlzc1cY

Eight cigarettes. He’d smoked eight cigarettes by the time he had to get ready for work. Ten by the time he got there. He strolled through the bookcases, looking at each title but not really reading them. He was supposed to be making sure all the books were in their proper place, but it suddenly seemed like too much work. He glanced at his coworker sitting at the desk, surrounded by papers that were _of vital importance right now_ — she had said. Her name was Crystal and it didn’t suit her. Crystal was the name of a pole dancer or a pretty young girl you wanted to fall in love with. She was a plump old woman who dyed her hair a dull, frizzy shade of brown. She wore flowery tops and gaudy jewellery, but you never noticed it was gaudy because she didn’t wear much of it. He decided he’d rather be wandering through the books than sorting through _vitally important_ paperwork.

The bell on the door chimed and he actually considered looking up this time, but his body wasn’t listening to his brain. It hadn’t been for a while, if ever.

He eventually made his way around the entire book shop, wandering back to the front. As he turned the corner he saw Damon, standing there like he wanted to ask Crystal something important, but she was ignoring him. He was wearing a blue and white wind breaker and matching trainers — he still looked like a twat but at least he’d coordinated an outfit.

“Damon!”

He jumped out of his stupor and turned to face him — smiling bright, and, relieved. Crystal looked up at the sound of his voice but quickly rolled her eyes back down to her work.

He hurried over and pounced on him, hugging him like he hadn’t seen him in weeks. Upon pulling away he seemed to curl in on himself, looking at his shoes. His body language was complicated as ever today. Alex didn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m glad I found you here, I didn’t want to go over to your flat in case Graham was there. I’ve got to tell you something really important, do you have a break soon? I can wait.”

He glanced at Crystal who looked like she was ignoring them, but he knew she was eavesdropping. She was always eavesdropping.

“I’ve actually got a break right now, let’s go outside for a fag.”

———

A million and one scenarios ran through his head as he watched Damon light a cigarette. Maybe he was dying, maybe he’d decided he hated him, maybe he was going to get down on one knee and propose. He smoked and watched Damon shuffle his feet uncomfortably, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Well spit it out, the suspense is killing me.”

Damon finally looked up at him — the look on his face screaming that this was about to be terrible news. Alex braced for impact.

“I guess… I’ve known for a while, really. Before I met you even, which seems like such a long time ago. But… I can’t really afford to live in my flat any longer. I’m moving back in with my mum, she lives in Leeds now. She wants me to go to rehab. I suppose it’s good for me. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again, but I’ll make a point of it. I’m leaving tomorrow. I was hoping you could stay with me tonight, one last time.”

Alex’s heart didn’t sink like he thought it would. He supposed reality hadn’t set in yet. He still had hope.

“Why don’t you move in with me and Graham?”

Damon chuckled at that. He didn’t know what was so funny.

“I don’t want you guys taking care of me. And mum is right, I need to quit the smack.”

Alex didn’t know what to say, so he scooped Damon up in a tight embrace. He felt his shoulders relax at his touch.

“Why don’t you want Graham to know?”

“I do, I was just hoping you would tell him for me. Is that alright?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. Why don’t you want to tell him yourself?”

“I know how he’s going to react… he’ll act like he doesn’t care. He’ll act like I’m just a small piece of his life, like it’s not a big deal and he’s unaffected. I love him too much, it would crush me.”

_Damon and Graham. Graham and Damon._

Alex pulled away, still holding his arms. His blue eyes were beautiful as ever, glistening with tears. He wasn’t sure which of them looked more miserable.

“You love Graham?”

“Don’t you?”

Alex sighed. How could anyone not? He slowly began to realise it was Graham all along, that held them together. He loved Damon, sure, but Graham was the glue that kept his heart from shattering. Damon and Graham, Graham and Damon, he loved them both and he’d never have either all to himself.

“He’s quite lovely, isn’t he?”

“Terribly so.”

“I know… look, I’ll definitely stop by after work. I’m done at four, okay?”

“Okay. Can you bring your bass? I want to make music with you.”

Alex smiled. “Of course.”

———

He rushed home to grab his bass, thanking the heavens he beat Graham there. When he arrived at Damon’s flat, Damon was quick to answer the door. As soon as he saw him a hand was at the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss, his other hand holding a cigarette dangerously close to his face. He pulled away and invited him inside, with that charming grin that nearly knocked Alex off his feet.

The flat was more depressing than ever — what few belongings Damon had were all packed up in boxes, some scattered about, others neatly stacked. At least the place smelled of food, Alex thought.

“I hope you’re hungry, I made us dinner. I also made a cake.”

“Christ, Damon,” Alex sighed, putting down his things, “you’re going to make me fat.”

“One last indulgence won’t make you fat, then you’ll never have to see me again, I promise.”

Alex stepped forward and placed a hand on Damon’s cheek, kissing him quickly.

“I wouldn’t mind being fat if it meant I could see you every day.”

Damon giggled. “You’re far too vain for that to be the complete truth, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“God, Damon, have I ever told you your smile might quite literally be the death of me?”

Damon’s smile grew and Alex had to catch his breath. “Aw, I don’t think you have.”

“Graham would spit on me for being so sappy, don’t you think I’m being sappy?”

“Yes, but it’s sweet. I like it.”

“Thanks very much.”

“Did you tell him?”

Alex’s heart sank, either at the fact that he was reminded this would be the last time he saw Damon for a very long time, if ever again, or the fact that Damon was asking about Graham, he wasn’t sure which.

“He wasn’t at the flat when I stopped by, I wasn’t there for long.”

“Right, well, that’s probably for the best, I don’t really want to hear about his reaction right now, do I?” Damon looked solemnly down at his fingers, the forgotten cigarette between them burning past the filter.

He looked up again with a weak smile. “Let’s eat.”

———

They finished eating, Alex self-consciously not finishing his slice of cake.

“Would you like to do my last bit of skag with me?”

“I’d be honoured.”

Alex wanted to swallow that smile whole, so he leaned forward and kissed him, slowly, passionately, trying to shove every bit of love he had for Damon down his throat.

He pulled away reluctantly, suddenly more interested in devouring Damon than getting high. “Sorry, you’ve got to stop smiling like that.”

His eyes lit up, and another devastating smile pulled at his lips, but he did his best to compose himself. “Don’t be.”

———

They lied on Damon’s sad little futon, blanketed by bliss from both the heroin and their close proximity to each other. They shared a cigarette in comfortable silence, Damon tucked under Alex’s arm, tracing lazy circles on his torso.

“Would you like to make music with me?” Damon ask quietly.

“Was than an innuendo?” Alex asked, glancing down at the boy beneath him and raising an eyebrow.

Damon sat up and looked down at him, a slight smile playing at his features, his hand still grazing Alex’s chest. “Would you like it to be?”

“Yes, please, you beautiful thing.”

Damon’s smile grew and he plucked the cigarette from Alex’s fingers, taking one last, long draw, before stubbing it out on the ash tray on the floor beside them. His lips were on Alex’s before the smoke had fully left them, and Alex drank the taste of bitter smoke and love and beautiful boy as his hands found Damon’s hips and pulled him on top of him.

Damon immediately began rocking his hips against Alex’s, tangling his hands in his hair and kissing him in the most depraved manner he knew how. Alex’s erection responded immediately, pressing up against Damon’s and eliciting a moan from him. Damon’s desperation turned him on more than it felt like he had ever been before. His desperation wasn’t like Graham’s yearning, it was more animalistic. He was quick to pull off Damon’s shirt before he attacked his chest with little nips and kisses. Damon broke away to remove his shirt as well, but was immediately back on him, sucking on his bottom lip. He raised his hips from Alex’s and Alex whined at the loss of contact. But Damon made quick work of his fly and Alex was eager to be freed from the confines of his trousers.

Making love to Damon was like being caught up in a hurricane, drowning beneath the waves while watching the destruction above him. It began as the calm before the storm, gently floating in the sea, calm and warm, the seagulls above squawking warnings that were muffled by the water in his ears. Then comes the rain, refreshing at first, but quickly becoming a downpour, a downpour of emotions that betrayed his body’s movements. Finally the waves start picking up, and he’s being thrust around, drowning, sinking deeper and deeper until he hits the sea floor and sleeps with the fishes.

Alex was still in a post-coital haze when Damon lifted his arm and smiled at him. Alex smiled back and offered his bruised arm, the only response he was able to give. The shot of heroin knocked the wind out of him, and he felt a flush from his head to his toes. He closed his eyes in an attempt to not throw up, he knew he wouldn’t make it to the bathroom if he did.

“Alex, are you alright?”

“A little sick.”

“Shit… fuck, did I give you too much?”

“Did you give me more than usual?”

“A little bit… but I figured you could handle it since you’ve done it nearly every day with me. Are you going to vomit?”

“No… it’s passed. Just tired. I swear I’ll be fine, come here.” He offered his hand to Damon, who frowned before curling up next to him. He buried his face in Damon’s hair and closed his eyes.

———

When Alex came to, he was in a sterile white room, lying in a dreadfully uncomfortable bed, with an IV in his arm. He slowly fluttered his eyes open and was met with a blinding light overhead. He groaned as an electric shock of pain shot through his head.

He immediately felt calloused fingers brush against his hand, and he turned to see Graham sitting beside him, his face twisted into the most worried expression he’d ever seen on him.

“What… the fuck?” Alex’s voice didn’t sound like him.

“You’re in the hospital. You overdosed last night, you dumb twat. I’ve been here since three in the morning.” Leave it to Graham to complain about his _own_ problems just after someone almost died.

Alex swallowed thickly, all memories of the night before flooding back to him. “Where’s Damon?”

Graham rolled his eyes and took his hand off Alex’s. “Fuck if I know. He was here last night with you, before he called me. Then he shoved off to God knows where. Tosser.”

Alex knew in that moment he’d never see Damon again. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“Hey… let’s go home.” Graham’s voice was soft again, as was his expression. Alex tried to force a smile. They both knew it was fake.

———

When they got back to the flat, he just wanted to stay in bed and not be bothered. For the rest of the day, for the rest of his life. He didn’t even care about his overdose, it was such a small issue compared to the loss of his… friend? Lover? He wanted to be left alone to mourn the loss of Damon, but Graham insisted upon mothering him like his own mother had never even done. He brought him tea with plenty of milk and sugar, practically force-fed him, kissed him all over and held him while he cried against his chest. Graham had the ability to transform into a completely different person when it came to taking care of Alex. He could have said I told you so, could have scolded him for being so careless with his drug use, could have left him to rot in his bed until he finally decided to off himself, but he never did. He really was Graham’s little lap dog, and he relished in it more than he’d ever admit, but they both knew it to be true.

“Why don’t I draw you a bath?” Alex’s face was buried in Graham’s neck, Graham speaking into his hair.

“No, I’m never leaving this bed ever again.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, love. I’ll add bubbles.”

“I’m not a girl.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Alex smoked as many cigarettes as he could in the bath — Graham washing his hair. The bubbles didn’t make him feel any better. 

As Alex was getting dressed, he decided to do something with his clothes from last night. He shook out his trousers and a folded piece of paper fell from his back pocket. He looked at it quizzically before picking it up and unfolding it.

It was simply an address, with write me written below. An odd smile pulled at his lips.

He gazed at the ceiling and pondered how his life might be now that Damon had become just a part of it. Maybe he would call that Melanie girl. Maybe he would see if he could meet up with Suzie and Liam again — or at least Suzie. Maybe he would ask Graham to marry him — as a business agreement, of course. For tax purposes. His options were limitless now. He realised what Graham meant when he suggested Alex lost himself in whoever he was in love with. He took a deep breath and tucked the note into his bedside drawer. He could think about all that later.


End file.
